This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
! in large folio. witll ve ry inter esting illustration8, some in colot', sllllwiJlg-iu cron-sec:tiun o r longitudinal &eetiOIl , as the case may be---the payiliunll uf lhe world ex hibition of 1862. Bibliotheque Natio nale. V.644. [G13,1) Paris ill the yea r 2855: " Our man y yis itors from Satu rn alul Mars have entirely furgutten , since arriyi ng her e. the IlOrir.ons of tbeir mothe r plane t! Paris is henceforward the capilill of c reation! . . . Where are yo u . Champs-Elysees . fayored t heme of newswrit.erJII ill 1855? . .. 8u:t:ting along Ihis thoroughfarf' that is pa ved widl hollow iro n a nd roofed willi I:r yslal are the 0011 a nd ho rnets of finance! The capitalists of Ursa Major lire c:ollferring with the IIlockbrokers (If Me rcury! And comilll; on Lbe market this l'ery day are s hares in thi: debris of Vellus half con· sumed by ill! own fl a mu!" Arselll! Ho ussaye. "t.e Puris futur." in Paris et ks Pari.ien. au XIX' j iede ( I>ari.s . 1856). pp. 458--459. IG13,2] At the lime (If die c~~ l u" li s hmc nt . in London , of the General Council of Ihe Workers Int e rn a ti o n a l .1~ the roUowing re ma rk circ ulated : "The child born in the worklihOIlS of Puris was nu rsed in U>ndon ." See Charles Benoi51 , "L..e ' My the' de I. c1ad8e o uvriere," Retllre des deux /JIondell (Marc h 1, 19 14), p. 104. [GI3,3) "St!i:ing that the gall!. hall is Ihe s ole occll~ ioll on whic h me n contain themseJ yeB, let us get used to modeling all our ins titutions on gatherings lI uch 118 these , where the woman is queen." A. Toussene! , l..e Monde de. oijeolU, vol. 1 ( Parill, 1853). p. 134. And : " Ma n )' men are courteoU! and gallant at a ball. doubting Dot th.t ga lla ntry ilia comma ndment o r God" (ihid ., p. 98). [G13 ,4)
0 11 Ga briel Engelm a nn : " When he pnLli8bed hill Euau lithographiques in 1816. great care was ta ke n to rt-produce this medallion liS the rro ntispiet.:e 10 his book, wilh the inscri ption : ' Awarded to M . G. Engelman n of Mulhouse (Upper Rhine). l.urge-8cale execution. a nd refilleme nt , of the art of lithograph y. Encourageme nt. 1816 .'" He nri 80uduJI . l..a Lithog ruphie ( Paris c 1895) . p. <38>. IG13,5)
On I.he
LOlldon "" o rM e xhibition : " III makillg t he ruunch of thisello rmo ul! exhibitiull . Ih,· ohserve r IIOOn rf'alizes thai . to avoid confusion •... il hall been necessary In dU lilel' Ihe different na tionalities in a eertaill lIumher of groupll, und that the olll y uliefuJ way of eKtahlis hing these industrial gro ulling& was to do so on the basis of---
clueer Ihing, II boullciing in IIlC'taphysical Im l, tleties a nd tlu!ologil:al nicctit."8. So far it is a valuc in Uk . thcr!' is not bing mYllr rious abo ut it. ... T Ill' form of wocxl is alte red b y makinp: a ta hle o ut of it : neycrthdesll . thi ~ table rClna.in ~ wood , a n ol'dinary mall)rial thillg. Iv. ~oon as it step'" fo rdl us commodi t y, howe ver. it i..o transformed illlU II IlIlItCI'ia l imma teria l thiug. II no t o nl y II tunds with lt8 feel 0 11 the gro und , bu t. in the fu cl' of all othe r ('unlm mlities, it Sla nd, on ill! head, a nd uut of il6 wooden bra.in it e\·olv.'& nolions mo rt' whims ically Ihan if it had s udde nl y begu n to dallce. --::; Ciled in Franz Me hring, " Karl Marx und das Gleichnis," UI Kort Marx au Denker. M efl sch. rmd Rcvo luf i(miir. cd. Rj uza nov (VI ~nlUl and Be rlin c1928». I" 57 (first publishccl in Di£nelte l eil. Marc h 13. 19(8). [G I3a,2] 1111
He nun co nll'"1'{'1I the world n hihitiolls to the great Greek r~s lival s . the Olympiao games, a nd t he I)ana th l'.naea . But in contra&1 to these, Ihe WOrld C)[IJibitio ns lack pt>c try. " Twice. Euro pe hilS gone off to vie w the me rchalldise and to compMre prollucu and ma te rials ; allli lID returning from this ne w kind of pilgrimage, nf) one has complained of m1 8ing MnyllJing." Some paget! later: "Our cen tury te nds toward neithe r the good nor the bad ; it te nds toward the medioc re. What s ucceeds in every elldeavor nowada ys is mediocrit y. " Ernest Renan , EllIa is de morale el de critique ( Paris. 1859), lip . 356--357. 373 ("La Puesic de l' Exposition " ). [G 13a.3) "'as hish visioll in Ihe casillO a t Aix- la-C hllpeUe. -rile ga ming hlille li t Au-IaChapelle is nothing s ho rt of a n inte rnatiOllal congress, where the coins of a U kingdoms and oU cuun triell are welcome .... A storm of Lc0IJOlds. Friedrich Wilhelms, Queen Victurias, and Napoll!ons rain dOWlI . . . 1.111 the tahle. Looking over this shining a!Jul'ium , I thougllt I could see ... the effigies of the sovereigns ... irrcyocably fad e rrom their reJ! pective eCIIS, guineas, or ducats, to ma ke room for other visages e ntirely IIl1k nown 10 nle. A grea l ma lly of tbese fa ce! .. . wo regriDillces ..• of "C)[ation , or greed , or or fury. There we re hllppy ones IOu , hut only a few .... Soon thi ll phenumellon ... grew dim a nd passecl a wa y, a nd a no the r sort of vision, no less eIClraordinary. 11 0 ...• loomed berore me. . . The bourgeois e ffi ~et whicb had sup pla nted the monarch began tile mselyes to move about withill the metallic diskll ... tha t confined the m . Before IOllg, they had separated rrom Ihe dis ks. T hey appeart'd in full relief; then their hr ads burgeoned OUI into rOllndel1 forms. They luul taken 1111 • • • not olily faces but living fl esh . They had a U sprung Lilliputian "odi~s. Enrything assumed a s hape ... somehow or othe r; a nd cr eatures e",actl y like us. excel1t fo r their sixe, . .. hegun 10 euliven the gamillg table. from whic h all c url't'ncy had va uished . I heard Ihe ring "f cCiins s ir uck by the steel of the c ro upie r 's I·a ke. hut thi H Wll ~ all Ihul I'cmainell uf the old resulluncc ... of Iuuis anel '~C: UII . which hud hecollle nu~n . Theile 11I10 r myrmido ns were now tllkin!; to their 11I~ls. fra nli.· lit the apprOacil of the murtl ~ rous ra k(' or the c rOll pier ; but escape .... as imp<.ss iblt: . ... Then .. . th e d ...·arfis h l! tll kes. uh IiSt.'Cllo admi t defeat . wt:1'I! ruthlcsllly capturecl by t he fa tal rake, wl.ich gat he red Ihl.'l11 illl o the cruupie r's dUlciling hund . T Ill' cl·uupi,·r-lmw h .. rrihl(·!-Icmk up em·h HIIII4I1 hody dnilllil y betwee n his fm gel'$ lind dl'\'oll nod il wi l.h guslO. In 1,...85 1.111111 half all hUllr. I ijaw some half-d ozen of lhelle i111 pruclenl Lilli putiMn5 hurled illlu the a h YM of this tern-
hie lonlh .... Rut whll l ap lJulJeilmc- I.he mo!\t wile Ihal , 611 rnisinll; my '!yCg (14Itngl,tlwr Ly I:hancc) to lin: gu lJcry lI ur ro ulidi ng this lIa Ue.y Iff d"alh , I noticed 1101 j U ~ 1 a n l'xlraor,lin ury likf! lIc!!1I LIII a cOlllplcte idenli t y hclwet:n II", ~e v e ra l kin gpins playing the Jjft'-si:l!,'d galll~ nllli Ihe miniature hUlllans struggling Iher,' on tJIC taLie .... WI, al '. mort!. Illese kin gpins ... a ppean:tl tll me ... 10 C() II UP8~ in dcspera tion p reci&ely 118 their dliJdlike fa cllimile!! welT ove rtake n hy til t: formilla ble rak .... They ccllled to ~ h ll re _ .. a lilhe.sc nsa liolls of thei r lillie dlllll,lc8; li nd nevcr. for as lo ng li S I th'e, wiJI J forgel the look a nel the ~estur&-full of I"!lred II.nd desp air- ",·hic h one. of those gamblers di rec ted to"'·a rd Ihe Lallk at the ve r y momen t tha t his tin y simulacru m. cora lled by the rake, wenl 10 satisfy the ra ve nous aplJetite of tlu~ croup ier." Felix Mornand . Ui Vie del eaux (Paris, 18(,2). 1'1' . 2 19022 1 (" Aix- Ia-Cha pcllc"). (C141
It woul? b~ useful to ~mpare the. way Grandville portrays machin~ to the way Chevalier, In 1852. still speaks of the railroad. H e calculates that two locomotives, having a total of 400 horscpowu , would correspond to 800 actual horses. H ow would it be possible to harness them up·~ H ow supply the fodder? And, in a note. he adds : "It must also be kept in mind that horses o f Besh and blood have to rest after a brief joum ey; so that to furnish the same service as a locomotive, one ~uS t have on hand a very large number o f animals." Michel C hevalier, Cllfmllru defer: Extmil du dictio1l1ullre de l 'iconomie politiqllt (Paris, 1852), p. 10.
/I (:Ollte& l of I'Bstry e'Hlk s. The 600.000 a lhleles of iflllu8try are furni shed with 300_000 !.ottles of cl,ampagrlO' . wllos.. corks. ;It a signal from tlul "command to .... (!r ... a,... Il IlIJlll'pl·c1 l1imu lt ll lleolu!ly. '1'0 edlO 11](·ollglloUI the " mountaiulf of the t: "phraIC!I." CiWtl ill (Arma ud IHllh MIIIIIJlnlllc . Fourier ( Pari~ . 1937»), yol. 2, pp . 178-179. IGlh.5)
-I\>or Stars! Their role of resplendence is really a role of sacrifice. Creators and servanrs of the productive power o f the planetS, they possess none o f their own and n~ust resign. thc.m.selves to ~ e thankJ~s and monotonous career of providing tordilight. They have luster Without enjoyment; behind them shelter, invisible, t.be living creatures. These sJave-queens are nevertheless o f the same stuff as their h.:1.ppy subjectS .... Oauling Hames coday, the.y will one day be dark and cold, and only as planets can they be reborn to life after the shock that has volatilized the retinue and its queen into a nebula." A. B1anqui, L'Ekrnitf par k; aslrtJ (Paris. 1872), pp. 69-70. Compare Goethe: "Euch bedaur' ich, ungiuckselge Sterne" d pity you, unhappy stars).» [G IS,l ] "'fhe slicriMy. the stock exc ha nge . ulld the ha rrac·ks-t1lOse three mus ty lairs Iha t togellter vo mit night , lIIi~e ry, ond ll';lIth upon the nations. Oc tober 1869. ,. Augus te BhlDqui_ Critu/ue l ociule ( Puris. 1885), vol. 2. p . 35 1 (" rra gm ents el no tes").
[Cl5,' ]
[CI4a,1] T he principles informing the. t'..x hilJitioll of objttl!! in Ihe Ca lerie des Mac hines of 1867 were derived from Le Play. [C I4a,2]
"A rich death is II ,·Iosed ubys.8." From the liflie •. Augu ste Blanqu.i . Critique Jod ule (Pans_ 1885), vol. 2, p . 315 (" Fraglll e nt ~ eIIlIJte&" ). [CI5,3] An imuge d 'Epi rwl by Selle n e shows the worM exhibition of 1855.
A divinatory representation o f architectural aspectS of the later world exhibitions is fo und in Gogol's essay "On Present-Day An:h.itecrure." which appeared in the mid -lbinies in his collection Arahesqua. "Away with this academicism which commands that buildings be built all one size and in one style! A city should consist of many different styles of building, if we wish it to be pleasing to the eye. Let as many contraSting styles combine there as possible I Let the solemn Gothic and the richly embellished Byzantine arise in the same street, alongside colossal Egyptian halls and elegantly proportioned Greek sO"Ucturesl Let us see there the slightly concave milk-white cupola. the soaring church steeple, the o riental miter. the italianate Oat roof, the steep and heavily ornamented Flemish roof, the quadrilateral pyramid, the cylindrical column, the faceted obeliskl"J6 Nikolai GogoI, "Sur lJ\rc:h.iteclUre du temps plisent; cited in W1adimir "W=idlc, Abti/{u d'Aristit (paris d936~) , pp. 162- 163 ("L"Agonie de I'art"). [CI4a,3)
us
ro urif·r I·cfl'rll l.o lhe fo lk wisd u lIllhat fIJr smile ti n,,! has lidi llctl -'Civililta liull" 88 Ie ",om/e (; rebcmr.
f'o uri .. r callflOI r!'~ i ll l ,lelH·ribing a banque t Iidtll>U the "u"k ~ of the l!:uphrlllf'S to hono r till' ,-il'l ura ill bOl h a ComilCl ition a mo ng :tealo us dam work" r8 (600.000) a lul
[CI S,' ]
Elements of intmticarion at work in the d etcctive novel, whose mechanism is described by Caillois (in terms that recall the world of the hashish eater): "The ~cters o f th~ ~dish imaginatio n and a prevailing artificiality hold sway over this ~trangely VIVId ....,orld. Nothing happens here that is nOllong premeditated ; nothing co,:,esponds to appearances. Rather, each thing has been prepared for use at the nghl moment by the omnipotent hero who wields power over it_ '"*recognize in aU this the Paris of the serial il1lltallments of FantOmQJ." Roger Gaillois, "Paris. mythe modernc." Nouudle R f'IJ llejhw{aise, 25. no. 284 (1\rIay 1. 1937), p.688. [G IS,SI "Ever y d il }' I $LO;: pouilll; he'lI'u lll my windo w u o:erluin number of Kalmucks, Olia gt:li_ Intiinn". Chi llIlIllCIl . 1111\1 iuwi" lIt (;rl!~k~ _ 1111 " 1II1'e 01' Ie .... POriSiO llizcd ," Cha rll'S [luud,·lai ...·. Oeu lJ res.
--I),.
[GIS,'] All vc r lisinl; lililiel' .111' t: mpin'_ 110:"0 1'11;111; til Fer,lillll lill Bruno!. IJi$loire .Ie lu IUllguefrml(:lIiJ~ (k~ (Jrigi"'~$ .l 1900. vul. 9, L(I /l el/oluti(}f' et rf.:mpire_ pari 9,
·' Lt·" Evc-nemcnts , l e~ in9ti.llltiolis et 10 longue" ( Paris, 1937): "We ~ h u ll frt!ely imtlgine thaI a mUll of genilill eonl'l'ive.llhe i,lea of cns hrining, wit.hin li u' bUliality (if lhl' vernacular, certain voc llhll'~ cldf'u la lcdto lIeduce readers and buyer", und Ihll t III' cho.'Se Greek not oilly heea use il furlli.'S hes inexhuulitihle resOllrcell 10 work ...ilh IIUI also Iweause, leu widely kuown I.han Latin , il has Iht' Illlvanta ~c or bei.ng , . . incumprehcn.'S ible 10 a gencraliun Ics8 verlied in t ill' lilildy of aueien! G n 'fi;f' . . . . Only. we know neil her who this mUll was, nor what his nationalit y might be, nor eve.n whctllf:r he exisled or nol. Let U9 suppose lhat , , . Crt!ek words ga ined currency little by lilde until , Ollt'. (lay, .. , the idea ... wus born .. , that, hy tbeir own inlruuie virtue. ""!)' I:ou ld ~erve for advertisin!\ ... . 1 myself would li.kc to thillk that .. , se\-eral generations and severalnatioliS weill into the making Ilf t hat \'erLal billLoard , the Cree.k mOlls ter thai ellticetl by 8urprisc. I helieve it ",U8 durin, the epoch I' m s J>cloIking of t.hat the movement began Itl take s ha pe . . The age of 'comagenic' h air oil had arri,-oo ." Pp. 1229- 1230 (" Lei Causes du triomphe till grec"). (GI5a,1J " Whlll wOlild a modern Winckelmann say . , were he COllrroflteti by a product from Ch.ina-sonll:thillg strange, bizarre, contorted UI form , illtcu8e in color. and 801lielinw8 Sf' ddicate 8 5 to he uJlllosl evanescent? It is, nevertheless, an example of lIJ1iVI'rsai heauty. But in order to IUlderstaml ii , the critic, the 8peclator, mUilt I'ffect withjll Illmself a mys terious trllnsfornl atioo : and by means of a phenomenon of the will acting 011 the imaginatioll, he lIIust learn by himself 10 pa.rticipate in the milie u which hus given hirtll to this Btrange flowerillg.,. Furtller alollg, 011 the same "age. all pear " those mys terious flowc rs whose dee" color clli!lave8 the eye and lalllalizt:1 it with ils shape:' Charles 8audelaire . Oea_v", ...
Prostitution of space in hashish, where it serves for all that has becn,a<1
IG16,2)
GrandviIJr's masking of nature: \\itll the fashions o f midcelHW"}'- nature under-stood as the cosmos, as well as the world of animals and plan ts- leIS history, in th e guise o f fashion, be derived from the eternal cycle o f natlJJl:. Whcn Grand· villc pl'~'iC1l1S a new fan as the "fan of iris," when the .Milky \Vay appean; as an
"avenue" illuminated at night by gas lamps, w hen " the moon (a self-portrait)" reposes. o n fashionable ~Ivet eushions instead of on d o uds, then history is being seculanzed and drawn Into a natural context as relentJessly as it was tluee hundred years earlier with allegory. IG 16,3)
The planetary fashions o f Grandville are so many parodies, drawn by nature of human history. Grandville's harlequinades rum into Blanqui's plaintive ballads. [GIG,4-) "TIII' exhibitions a re the onJy properl y nlOllern fc stivals:' 1II'rm UIIIl Lotze, !lIikrokosmos, vol. 3 ( Leipzig. 1864), p . ?
IGI'.SI
111.e wo~ld exhibitions ~'t.re rraining schools in which the masses, barred &om consummg, learned empathy with exchange value, " Look at everything; touch nothing," IG 16,6J The entenainment industry refines and multiplies the varieties of reactive behavior ~~ng the n~asses. In this way, it makes them ript for the workings of advc:msmg. The link between this industry and the world exhibitions is thus well established. [G16,71 Proposal for u rban planning in Pari8: " It wouJd be advisable to vary the furms of Ihe houses and, all for the dilltricl8 , to employ different architecturai orden. even those in no way cla8l!ical---1lueh alltbe COtillc, Tllrkish . Chinese, E~tiall , OurnIese, and 10 forth:' Amedee de TissOI, Pori.. er, Lemlres compares ( PurilI , 1830), p, 150.- The architt'cture of future ex:JriLitioll8! [GI Ga, I]
"As 10llg as tillS ulIlIl>e.llknble cOlis truction [t he Palace of I.ndustry] s urvives, .. . I s hall take utisfa ctiou in rcnuullciug the title ' mall of lellel's' , . . ,Art and indus. Iry! Ye~, it was in fll ci fur them alone tha t , in 1855, thili impossible IlIlIgle of galleries was reserved . this jumhle where the poor "'rilers Ilave lint even ht.' i'll granted six squ are fl.-et- the space of a gra\'e! Clory 10 d.ee. 0 Sta tioncr . . . . Mount to the Capitol. 0 PuJllisli1"r . _ . ! Triumph, yo u artis ts and indus trial" you who "a" e hadlbe. honorl lIod the profit of a world exhibitioll. ",hereas pOOr literalure ... " (pp . v-vi). '·A world exhiliition for the man leiters , a Cryslill Pllillce. for the aUlhor- motHs te!" Whis perings of a 8curriloll8 .Iemoll whom BaLuu , uecor, ling to IllS " Lettrc Ii Charles A8sdineau." i ~ sUPI)Oset! 10 hll\'I' encounlt-rellonc {lay along the ChaJnps- EI Y~l~'s, ililiPulyte BallOlI . Le .. Pfiyelill i"nocellts ( Pal"is . 1858). p , xiv. [GI6a,2)
or
ExhiioitiOllll. "S uch t rall ~itury inUalJalioliS. li S a rull', have had 110 inJlucllcc tin till: ctmfigl.lratioll of citics, . .. It is ot herwi.il' ... in Paris. Pn,,'isd)' ill dlt~ fal 'l II1al he.re gialll exhil)itiun8 cou lll he ~ I"t up in the midillt: or town , an.llhal n('a r ly 1I l way ~ they woul{l le
ciilely in thill , onc cnn rt.'Cognize II.Itl. bltl.ilsing of II great origin al layo ut ami ' If u f'o nlilluing tradition uf urban pla.llninJ'j. Purls could . . . orga nize even the most i llllllt:U I>e exhibition 0 ail to be .. . acc(;,~ iLle from the Place de la COllcorde. AJong tbe quays leading wcst from tlus Still are. for a distance of kilometers, the curbij IlIn'e beeu set back from t.he river ill 8uch a way that very wide lanes a rc opcned , which , abulldulltly plallted with row8 of trees, make for the I tlvelie~ 1 Jlo ~~ ible exhibition routes." Fritz Stuhl , Puris (Berlin <1929)) , I). 62. [G16a,31
D [The Collector] All these old things ha~ a moral value. -Charla Baudelain: L
I believe ... in my soul: the Thng. - Uon Dcubel.
lkUIITtJ
(Paris, 1929). p. 193
H ere was d\e last refuge of those infant prodigies that saw the light of day at the time of the world exhibitions: the briefcase with interior lighting, the meter-long pocket knife, or the patented umbrella handle with built-in watch and revolver. And near the degenerate giant creatures, aborted. and broken-down m atter. 'M: followed the narrow dark corridor to where-bet\\'een a discount bookstore, in which dusty tied-up bundles teU of all sons of failure, and a shop selling only buttons (mother-of-pearl and dIe kind that in Paris are called de Jantauie)-there stood a sort of salon. On the paJe-colorcd wallpaper full of figures and bWt!i shone a gas lamp. By its light, an old woman sat reading. They say she bas been there alone for years,. and collects sets of teeth "in gold, in wax, and broken." Since that day, moreover, .....e know where Doctor Miracle got the wax out of which he fashioned Olympia.2 0 DoUs 0 [HI.I] "The crowd throngs to dIe Passage Vivienne, where people never feel conspicuous, and deserts the Passage Colbert, where they feel perhaps too conspicuous. At. a certain point, an attempt was made to entice d\e crowd back by filling the rotunda each evening with hanno nious mwic, which emanated invisibly from the ·windows of a mezzanine. But the crowd came to put its nose in at the door and did not enter, suspecting in this novelty a conspiracy against its custOins and routine pleasures." Le Liv" del Ctn t-et-/lJ/~ vol. 10 (Paris, 1833), p. 58. Joifteen years ago, a similar attl."tl1pt was made- likewise in vain- to boost the
e:xactly how the sanguine and the nervo us temperaments aCI on one anothe:r-to the detriment of each. But this explanation could 5.1.tisfy no one. Nor does it explain Lhe admixture of colponage. the bloodthirstiness, the cinematic goriness of t.he adion. Which- by no accident- takes place in an arcade.~ If this book rcalJy expounds something scientifically, dlen it's the death of the Paris arcades, the decay of a type of architecture. The book's atmosphere is Saturated with the poisons of this process: its people drop like Bies. [H 1.3] III 1893. llll' c()Coll cs ",'en' drivi!1I rrOm the arl:a,lcli.
~n , ')
Music seelllS to have settled into th('s(' spaces omy with their decline, only as the orchestras thenlSeives began to seem old·fashioned in comparison to the new mC'Chanical music. So that, in fact, these orchestras would just as soon have taken rc:fuge there. [The ..theatrOphonc" in the arcades was, in certain respects, the forerunner of the gramophone,) Nevertheless. there was music that confonned to tlle spirit of the arcades-a panoramic music, such as can be heard today only in old·fashioned genteel concerts like thost of the casino orchestra in Monte Carlo: the panoramic compositions of
Oflen these inner spaces harbor antiquated tradcs, and even those that are thoroughly up to date will acquire in them something obsolete. They are the site of infonnation bureaus and detective agencies, which there, in the gloomy light of the u pper galleries, follow the trail of the past. 1n hairdressers' windows, you can see the last women with long hair. TIley have richly undulating masses of hair, which are "pennanent waves," petrified coiffures. TIley ought to dedicate small votive plaques to those who made a special world of these buildings-to Baudelaire and Odilon Redon, whose vcr)' name sounds like an all too wellrumed ringlet. Instead, they have been betrayed a.nd sold, and the head of Salome made into an ornam ent-if that which drcanlS of the console there belo w is not the embalmed head of Anna Czyllak.' And while these things arc petrified. the masonry of the walls above has become brittle. Brittle, tOO, are 0 Mirrors D <See RI ,3.) (Hln, l]
f
r
What is decisive in collccting is that the objcct is detached from all its o riginal functions in order to enter into the closest conceivable relation to things of the same kind . lllis relation is the dianletrie opposite of any utility. and falls into the peculiar category of completeness. What is this "completeness''? It is a b'T3.nd atlempl to overcome the wholly irrational character of the object's mere presence
at hand through irs integration into a new, expressly devised historical system : the collection, And for the: true coUector, every single lhing in this system be· comes an encyclopedia of all knowledge of the epoch, the landscape, the indus· try, and the owner from which it comes. It is the deepest enchantment of the colleeror to enclose the particular item within a magic circle, where, as a last shudder runs through it (the shudder of being acquired), it rums to stone. Evtry. thing remembered, everything thought, everything corucious becames sode, frame, pedestal. seal of his possession. It must not be assumed that the collector. in particular. would find anything stran~ in the tqpos "JJm'0uraniOJ-that place beyond the: heavens which, fo r Plato,.s shelters the unchangeable archetypes of things. H e loses himself, assuredly. But he has the strength to pull himself up again by nothing more than a straw; and from out of the sea of fog that enve10ps his senses rises the newly acqumd piece, like an island.-Collecting is a fonn of practical memory, and of all the profane manifestations of "nearness" it is the most binding. Thus, in a certain sense, the smallest act of politica1 re8cction makes for an epoch in the antiques business. \'\t construct here an alarm clock that rouses the kitsch of the previous century to "assembly!, [Hla,2] Extinct narure : the shell shop in the arcades. In ;'The Pilot's Trials," Strindberg tells of "an arcade with brightly lit shops." "Then he went on into the arcade.. , , That was evtry possible kind of shop, but DOt a soul w be seen, either behind or before the counters. After a while he stopped in front of a big window in which the:re was a whole display of shells. As the door was open, he went in. From Boor to ceiling there were rows of shells of every kind. collected fro m all the seas of the \\IOrld. No one was in, but there was a ring of tobacco smoke in the air.... So he began his walk again, following the blue and white carpet. The passage wasn't straight but winding, so that you could never see the end of it; and there were nlways fresh shops there, but no people; and the shopkeepers wert: not to be seen." The unfatbomabililY of the monbund arcades is a characteristic motif. Strindberg, Miirc/le'l (Munich and Berlin, 1917), pp. 52-53, 59.' [Hla.3) One must make one's way through LeJ FleurJ du mal with a sense for how thi.ngs arc raised to allegory. The use of uppercase lettering should be foUowed carefully. [Hh,4]
At th(' conclusion of MaHeu et mimoir(t l3crgson develops the idea that perception is a function of time. If, let us say. we \\lCre to live vis·a·vis some things more calmly and vis·a·vis others more rapidly, according to a different rhythm, there would be nothing "subsisteDl" fol' llS, but instead everything would happen right bc:fore our eyes: everything would strike us. But this is the way things are for die bl"J'eat coUector. The)' strike him. How he hinlSelf pursues and encounters them, what changes in the ensemble of items are effected by a newly supervening item---.tU this shows him his affairs in constant flux. H ere, the Paris arcades art' exalUined as though they were properties i.n the hand of a coUeaor. (At bottom, w~_ may say. the coUeclor lives a piece of dream life. For in the dream, tOO, the
1-1
rhythm of perception and expcri~ce is altered in such a way that c:vc:rythillgeven the sccmingly most neutrnl-comes to strike us ; everything concerns us. In order to understand the arcades from dle ground up. we sink them inLO the dccpe:a stratum of the dream; ~ speak of them as though they had struck us.) [HIa .5]
=
"\bur lmderstanding of allegory assumes proportions hitherto unknown to you; I will note, in pass ~g. that allegory-long an object of our scorn because of maladroit painters, but in reality a most JpiriluaJ an fonn , o ne of the earliest and most natural forms of poetry-resumes its legitimare dominion in a mind illUltUnmed by intoxication." Charles Baudelaire, I.es Paradis arlijicitb (Paris, 1917), p. 73.' (On the basis of what follows, it cannot be do ubted that Baudelaire indeed had allegory and not symbol in mind. The passage is t.'lken from the chapter on hashish.) 1lte collector as allegorist. 0 Hashish 0 [H2 , I] ''The publication .ill 1864>of L 'lli3loire d e III societe!rum;aife pendant to RellO/lI rio1l 1'.1 SOlU I.e Direeloire opens the eru of the curio--and the word 'curin' . hould IIot be taken us Pf!jurative. In tbose dUY", the historical curio was called a ' relic.'" Itcmy de Gounllunt , J~ Dew:ieme Uvre des mruques (Paris, 1924), p. 259. This pasRlIge concerns a work by Edmond anll Jlliea de Goncon rt . [H2.2]
The uue method of making things present is to represent them in our space (not to represent ourselves in their space). (lbe collector does just this, and so does Ithe anecdo te.) Thus represented, the things allow no mediating construction from out of "large contexts." The same method applies, in essence, to the consideration of great things from the past-the cathedral of Chartres, the temple of Paestum-when, that is, a favorable prospect presents itself: the method of receiving the things into o ur space. 'M: don't displace o ur being into theirs; they step into o ur life. [H2.3] Fundamentally a very odd fact- thaI collector's items as such were produced industrially. Since when? It would be necessary to investigate the various fash· ions that governed collecting in the nineteenth century. Characteristic of the 8iedernleier period (is this also the case in France?) is the mania for cups and saucers. " Parents. children, friends, relatives, superiors. and subordinates make their feelings known through cups and saucers. The cup is the preferred gift, the most popular kind ofmckknack for a room.Just as Friedrich Wlihelm HI filled his stUdy wid] pyramids of porcelain cups, the ordinary citizen collected, ill the cups and saucers of his sideboard, the memory of the most important events, the most precious ho urs, of his life." Max von Boehn, Dil' Moth im XIX. JaArhuTI(kr/, vol. 2 (Mun ich, 1907), p. L36. IHV I] Possession and having are allied with the tactile, and stand in a certain opposition to the o ptical. Collectors are beings with !anile instincts. Moreover, with dIe recent nlI"n away from naturalism, the primacy of the optical that was det"enru-
nate for the previous century has come to an end. 0 FUneur DT he Ilaneur optical, the collector tactile.' £H2,5] Broken-down matter: the elevation of the commodity Allegory and the fetish character of the commodity.
(0
the status of allegory. [H2.6]
One m ay stan from the. fact that the true collector detaches the o bject from its functionaJ relations. But that is hardJy an exhaustive: descriptio n of this remark· able mode of behavior. For isn't this the foundation (to speak with Kant and Schopenhauer) of that "disinterested" contemplation by vinue of which the collector attains to an unequaled view of the object-a view which takes in Olore, and other, than that of the profane owner and which we would do best to compare to the gaze of the great physiognomist? But how his eye comes to rest on the object is a matter elucidated much more sharply through another consideration. It must be kept in mind that, for the collector, the world is present, and ind«:d ordered, in each of his objectS. Ordered, hOl'l'eVer. according to a surprising and, for the profane understanding, incomprehensible connection . TIlls connection stands to the customary ordering and schematizatio n of things something as thcir arrangem~t in the dictionary stands to a natural arrangement. ~ need only recall what importance a particuJar collector attaclu:s not o nly to his object but also to its entire: past, whether this concerns the o rigin and obj«tive ebarac· teristic.s of the thing or the details of its ostensibly external history: previous owners, price of purchase, current vaJue, and so on . All of these-the "objective" data together with the other-come together, for the true collector, in every single one of his possessions, to form a whole magic encyclopedia, a world order, whose outline is the fate of his object. Here, therefore, within this circwnscribed field, we can understand how great physiognomists (and collectors are physiognomists of the world of things) become interpreters of fate. It suffices to observe JUSt one collector as he handles the items in his showcase. No sooner does he hold them in his hand than he appears inspired by them and seems to look through them into their distance, like an augur. (It wouJd be interesting to srudy tI~e bibliophile as the only type of collector who has not completely withdrawn his treasures from their functional context.) [H2,7 ; H2a, 1] TIlt:. great collector Pachinger, \r\blfskehl's friend, has put together a collection ~t . in its array of proscnbed and damaged objectS. rivals the Figdor collection ~ Vienna. H e hardly knows any more how things stand in the world; explains to ~ visito rs- alongside the most antique implements- the usc of pocket handkerchiefs. hand mirro rs, and the like. It is related of him that, one day, as he was crossing the Stachus. he stooped to pick something up. Before him lay an object h.e had been pursuing for weeks : a misprinted streetcar ticket that had been in mcul.ation for only a few hours. [H2a,2) An apology for the collector ought not to overlook tills invective : "Avarice and old age, remarks Cui Parin. are always in coUusion . Widl individuals as with
societies, the need to accumulate is one of the signs of approaching death. This is confirmed in the acute stages of prcparalysis. There is also the mania for collec· tion. known in ncurolob'Y as 'collcctionism.' I From the collection o f hairpins to the cardboard box bearing the inscription: 'Small bits o f string are usdess.'" &pt Pichi; rapitou.'I: (Paris, 1929), pp. 26-27 (Paul M orand , "L'Avaricc"). But . [H2a.3J compare collecting done by children!
u;
=
not !Jure I lIhouM lIav,) been 110 thoroughly pO!J8eued by this one subject . but fur I.hl" lIeapll of fllnta litie thing I had seen huddled together in the curiosity_ llealer 's warehouse. These . crowding 0 11 my mimi , in connection witJl the child , and galhering round her, as il wert. brought her condition palpably before me, I had her image, without any effort of imagUlation , surrounded _nd besel by everyIhing Ihal was foreign to illl nalure, and farthest removed from the sympa thies or her lIex lI11d ugc. U these helps 10 my fa llcy had all ~Il wanting, alld I had 1H:t'1i forced to imagi ne her in II commoll chamber, with notilill!; unusual or IUlcuUlh iu ill appearallce, it ill very prollable thlll I should have ht:en less impreued with her strallge and solilury Slate. As il WII S, IIhe seemed to exist in a kind of allegory," CharlCI Dickenll, Ocr Rllritiitenladen (Leipzig, ed.lnsel), pp . 18--19.[H 2a,4j " )11111
Wiesengrulld, ill all unpublished essay on The Old Curiosity ShOll . b y Dickenll: "1'"ell's death i8 deddetl in the !lentence that readll: 'There wc ...~ some triftes tht'.re--pnor ullt']ef!1O thing3-lhal she would have liked 10 lake away ; hUI that was impossible.' ... Yet DickeDs n :cognized that the possibility of tra nsition aui! diaI ~ ti cal rt:fIC UC was inherent in tlUs world of things. tlLis lost , rej ecled world ; 8 1ul he eXl'rt:'5scd it . belt,.r I.bao Romllntic nature-wo rlilLiII wall ever able to do. ill tlu: powcrful allcgory or money IO'ilh wlLich the depiction of the industria l cily cods: ' . . • 110'0 old . baltered . s.nloke-encrusted penny pieces. Who knowl but they shone as brigh tl y in the eyes of angels, as goMen gUll! Ihal huvfl been chronicled ou tombs?, .. tO [H2a.5) "'MOil t'nthusias ts lei thelllselvt'Nbe guided by chance in fonning their coUection . like bibliophilcs ill their browl!ing .... 1\1 . Thiers has proceeded otherwise : before aucmhling ItioJ l'oUa:tion. he formed it 11 8 II whole in ltis head; he laid oul hill plan ill advance, allil he has ' IJelit thirty years executing it. ... M. Thiers p08Be8Se8 what he wllnted 10 possess . . .. And what was the point? To arrange arllllllli him~ df II Inilliutllrt' of the IIni ve rse--that ill, to gather, within an environment of dgh ty ~ qllure meter!!. Ilomtl und Florcllce, Pompeii _nd Venicc, Dresden and the Hague, Ihe Vulil'un a nd Ihe E8corial , Ihe British Mllseum and lhe Hermitagc, the AlhulII' lira IIlId the SlImmcr Pa lllcc. , .. Alill M. T hien has beell llLle to I'calize thii vast "roj/·ct wilh ')Illy mOllelit expcIIliiture8 made each year o\'er a thirty-yeor I)CI·illd ... . St.-eking. in purticular. 10 utlllr n the wall.-; IJf his residence with the lIIost pn:('iIHU; 8ou v" nirKof his "oyugcs. M . Thiers had rCllouetl "OpiCi mllde of the III UH I fu muu ~ 1' lI illlin g~ . . .. And ~(I , un ent('rillg hill home, you lind yo urself illlllicilialdy SIJI"rolilule,1 Ly 1IIIIIIIerl'i'!I'CII creat t.'tl in hul y {llIrin!; die ilge of Leo X. Tile wnll r,will l: t.hc windowd i ~ occupied II)' Th e Lu, Judg ment . hllng betwt.-en The Dillpu,e
uf Ih e floly SlI crumelit nlloJ '/'lie SellOul of A,heflll . Titian', AUllnrptiotl adornil the Il1 a nldpi cc~, m-Iwl!I!lI l'llf~ COllJllllllliQ/' of Sui/II Jerome II lId Tile l'rllfllf!lSlI rut;oll . 7'lr e MlidolllUJ oISai'" SiXllIlI lllukclI a pair with Sf,;nl. Chi la. ulul 011 the pilaster lin' fl"amed dltl Sillyls of Hupt.:,,'I. IJI'IIO't."t'1I the Spoliufi.;iu and the I>ictllrt· rcpre.;;t' nLill ~ C""gory IX liI'livl'rilig the ,Icerclu l!! 10 a Ilclt·gate of the COIll,i.slory... . These (·opies all hd ng reducf'd ill lI("cortialU..'C with the ~a llle 8f:ale, III" nearly 110 •••• thl' rye discln"cr in Ihem. with JlI~il s ure. the I"t!lalive prupo rtiollil of the origillals. They ar~ paitlll'1l in ...· a h'l·t~!llor.- · Clturle BlIIIIIJ, Le Cubiflet de M . Thien (Puris. IBil ). pp. 11)...18. [H3,l j " Casimir P":rier lIai,1 fJllI! dll Y, while vie....in" Ihe arl collection of an illustriuu.il clll.husiast ... ; "Alllht.'Se paintillg8 are very prctt y-but they' re dOf'UlIlDl ta piIu''- ... T(l{lu)'• ... one could say tl) CMimir Peri ... r ... thai , .. paintings ... , ...·hell Ihey a re illll.!c(laUlliclitic, that drawings, when recognizahly liy the hand of a Inll ster .... ~ IC("I' a sleep Ihat is resto rative allll profitahle .... The, . , sale of the cu riosities and paintillgs of Momicur It ... hUN J1roven in rOUlld figures Ihal works of lIenius possess a VIII III' just II I solid 11 11 thc OrManll
TIle positiut countcrtype to th~ coUector-which also , insofar as it entails the
I
liberation of things from the drudgery of being useful, represents the consumma· tion of the collector-can be deduced from these ""Dreis of Marx: "Private property has m ade us so stupid and inert that an object is our; only when we have it, when it exists as capital for us, or when ... we we it." Karl Marx, Du hiIlorUcM MalerioliImus, in Die Friiluchnflnl, ed. Landshul and M ayer (Leipzigd932»), vol. 1. p. 299 ("Nationalokonomie und Philosophie").'1 [H3a,II
"All the physica llllld ilitelll'(;luul >It!n&cs have ~II replaced hy the ~illlJlle alienatiotl of allihelle !ll'IISI"8. the sense or IItw illS ' ... (On the c!a legory or ha vins , see Hess in TU'ellty-O"e Sheeu)." Karl Marx . Der lJulIori.f('he Mnterialillmus (Leipzig). vol . I, p. 300 (.. nt.illllllliikonumic. ullIl Pltiloiloplue "). I! [H3a,2j -- 1 1'an , in p ract.ice. rdlltt· lIJ y~df humllllly 10 an ohjt.'1'1 only if Ihe objeci reillte8 iw·1f lttunun ly to ma n." Karl Murx , lJer M~'ori$c" e MtI' erin fismws (leipzig). voL t , " . 30() (•• 'ati"nali.ikUllllluil' lIIlIl l'hi IOlwphie").IJ {H3a,3] T he "oilecliulls \If Alexanth'" !III SOllllucranl in 1111' hllitiings IIf tllt1 Musel: Cluny. {H3a,4J
rnlC quodlibet has somclhing of the genius o f both coll~cLDr and flaneur.
[H3a.5J TIle collector actualizes latent archaic representations of property. 111ese repn::· senrations may in fact be colmecl'cd with taboo, as the foUowing remark indio
cates: uh ... is .. . cenain that taboo is the primiti~ form of propeny. At first emotivcly and 'sincerely,' then as a routUIC legal procas, declaring something taboo would have constituted a title. To appropriate to oneself an o bject is to render it sacred and redoubtable to others; it is to make it 'participate' in o neself.... N. Gutcnnan and H . Lefebvre, La Co IIJrlrn(t: myJti/iit: (Paris. 1936), p. 228.
fomlS of argumentation to which the author alludes, and indeed cenajn forms of Sc.holastic tho ught in general (appeal to hereditary authoritary), bclong together with the forms of production. 'nle collector devdops a similar relations hip with his objects, whicll arc enriched through his knowledge of their Origin and their duration in histol'y-a rdationship that now secms archaic. [H4.4]
[H3a,6)
=
IIy Marx from "NalionaWkul1omie und PhilClsl)))hie-: "'Private property has III~Hl e UA80 stulJilill lll1 illerl1hailUlllhject is Ullr~ lInly when WI" ho ve it:' " AU the ph y~ ic ll l ll n d intellectual senses ... hllvt' been I'cpitu!<:tl by the ~im pl e aiil!nll. PU S8.lIgei
lion lIf all theSe senlles. the seilS<: of IUlVing. ".1 Cilt!!1 ill Hugo Fi8eher. KarllUarx lind sein Verllii/tnis:u Staot und IVirtsc/uift (Jella . 1.932), p . M. [H3a,7]
The Im CI!8tors !If Balthazo r Claes were coUl'etors.
(H3a,8]
Models for Cuusin Puns: SOllllllerard, Suuvagcot. J acaze.
[H3a,9]
The pbysiologica1side of collecting is imponant. In the analysis of this behavior, it should not be overlooked that, with the nest·building of birds, collecting .c· quires a clear bio logical function. There is apparently an indication to this effect in Vasari's treatise on ardutecrure. Pavlov, 100, is supposed 10 ha~ occupied himself with collecting. [H4 ,11 Vasari is s uppu ~cd 10 lul\' ~ maintained (ill his I.rcatille 011 architectu re?) that tli.. lerm "grQIIlS<jue" cOlllet from thl' g roU.)C~ ill which collectors hoard their treas ures. [H''>]
Collecting is a primal pheno menon of slUdy: the student collects knowledge. [H',3]
Perhaps the most deeply hidden motive of the person who collects can be desmbed this way: he takes up the struggle against dispersion, Right from the start, the great collector is struck by the confusion, by the scatter. in wllich tile things of the world arc found. It is the same spectacle that 50 preoccupied the mcn of the Baroque; in particular, the 'world image of the allegorist cannot be explained apart from the p35sionate, distraught concern ....ith this spectacle. TIle allegorist is, as it were, the polar opposite of the collector. He has gi~n up the attempt to elucidate things through research into their properties and relations. H e dis· lodges things from their COntext and, rrom the outset, relies o n his profWldity to illuminate their meaning. The COllector, by contrast, brings together what be· longs together; by keeping in mind their affinjties and their succession in rime, he call eventually furnish infonnation abOlll his objects. Neve.rthdess-and this is more important than all the differences that may exist between them- in every collector hides an allegorist, and in e~ry allegorist a collector. As far as the collector is concerned. his collection is never complete; for let him discover just a single piece missing, and everything he's collected remains a patchwork, which is what things are for allegory from the beginning. On the other hand, the allegorlsl-for whom o bjects represent only keywords in a secret dictionary, which will make known their meanings to the initiated-precisely the allegorist can never have enough of things. With him, one thing is so little capable of taking the place of another that no possible re8ection suffices to foresee what meaning his profun· dity might lay claim to for each one of them.l • [H4a,l ] Animals (birds, ants), children, and old men as collectors.
In ducidating the rclalio n of medieval man to his affairs, Huizinga occasionally adduces the literary genre of the " testament": "This literary fonn can be ... appreciated o nly by someone who remembers that the people of the Middle Ages were, in fact, accustomed to dispose of even the meanest [!] of their possessions through a separate and detailed testament. A poor woman bequeathed her Sunday dress and cap to ber parish, her bed to her godchild, a fur 10 her nurse, her everyday d ress to a beggar woman, and four pounds toumou (a sum which COIlStituted her entire fonune), together with an additional d ress and cap, to the Franciscan friars (Champion, Villoll, vol. 2. p. 182). Shouldn't we recognize here, 100, a quite trivial manifestation of the same cast of mind that sets up evay case of virtue as an cternal example and sees ill e~ry customary practice a divinely willed o rdinance?" J. Huizinga, H~rfJJt rUJ Mittelaftm (Munich, 1928), p. 346. " What strikes one 1I10St about tills 1100ewortilY passage is that sllch a relation to movables would perhaps no longer be possible in an ab'C of standardized mass production. It would follow quite naturally rrom this to ask whether or not the
(H4a,2]
A son of productive disorder is the canon of the mmoire inlJO/olllaire, as it is the canon of the coUector. "And 1 had already lived long enough so that, for more than one of tile human beings with whom I had come in contact, I found in antipodal regions of my past memories another being to complete the picture. . .. In much the same way, when an an lover is shown a panel of an altar screen, he rc:m~mbers in what church. museum, and private coUectio n the other pands are. dispersed Oikewise. he finall y succeeds. by following the catalogues of art sales or fn:qucming antique shops, in finding the mate to the objecl he possesses and tbereby completing tile pair, and so can reconstruct in his mind the predella and tile entire altar)." Marcel Proust. Le TemjJJ r~trouui (Paris), vol. 2, p. 158.'r The '~ imoire Vf1lolltair~. on the oth er hand, is a registry providing the object with a clas· slficatory number behind whicll it disappears. "'So now we'~ been tllcrt:." r t've had an cxpcl;ence.") How th(' scatter of allegoricaJ properties (the patchwork) relates to this creative disorder is a question calling for furtllC' r study. [H5,J J
I
How the interior defended itself against gaslight: "AlmOSt all uew houses have
gas today ; it bums in lhe inner courtyards and o n the stairs, though it does not yet have free admission to the aparttuents. It has been allowed into the antechamber and sometimes even into the dining room, but it is not \\-"CJcome in the drawing TOODL 'W hy not? h fades the wallpaper, l1'1at is the only reason I have run across. and it carries no weight at aU." Du Camp, Paris, vol. 5, p. 309. [11 .5)
[The Interior, The Trace]
\
" I.n 1830, RomanticiJlIll ....a8 gaining the upper hand in literature. It DOW im'aded architecture and placarded house (stadel ,.,;!h a fanta stic ~ot hici8 m , one aU too oft en made ofputeboa rd . II imposed iuelf on furniture making. ' AU of a sudden ,' ~ Uy M 8 rellOrter 011 the exhibition of 1834. ' there is boundless enthusiasm for . trangely !lhaped furniture . From old chateaux. from furniture warenoUies and junk shops, it has been dugged 0111 to embellish the saloos, which in every other respect 8rc modern . . . . ' Feeling inll pired , furniture manufacturer! have Seen prodigal with tbeir ' ogiye8"und machicolations.' You 8t..>e heds IInll armoires bri.. thllg with bUltlementt . like thirteenth-century citIUJelS ." E . Levasseur,
a
Apropos of a medieval armoire, this in~ting remark from Behne: "Movables
(Le;prig, 1927), pp. 59, 61-62.
[11.2)
Hessel speaks of the "dreamy epoch of bad taste." Yes, ~ epoch ~ whoU ~ adapted to the dream. was.-fumiWed in dreams. 111e alternation in stylesGothic, Persian, Renaissance, and so on-signified : that over the interior of the middle-class dining room spreads a banquet room of Cesare Borgia'S, or that OUt of the bo udoir of the mistress a Gothic chapel arises. or that the master's study, in its iridescence, is transfomled into the chamber of a Persian prince. The photomontage that fixes such images for US corresponds to the most primitive perceprual tenden cy of these gmera.~ns . Only gradually have the images amo ng which they lived detached themselves and settled on signs, labels, posters, as the figures of advertising. [11 ,6J
A series of lithographs from 1&:-, showed women reclining voluptuously on ottomans in a draperied, crepuscular boudoir, and these: prints bore inscriptions: On the Banks of Ihe 1izgtIJ, On the Banks ofthe Neva, On the &nks 0/the Seine, and so forth. The Guadalquivir, the Rhone, the Rhine. the Aar, the Tamis-aU had their rum. lbat a natio nal costume might have distinguished these: female figures one from another may be safely doubted. It was up to the ligrnde, the caption inscribed beneath thcm, to conjure a fannu y landscape over the represented interiors. 111.7]
To render the image of those salons where the brazc was enveloped in billowing cu,rtains ~d swoUen cushions , where. before the eyes of the guests, full-length IIU1TOrs disclosed church doors and settees were gondolas upon which gaslight from a vitreous globe shone down like the nloon. 11l,8J
The imponance of m ovable property, as compared with inunovable property. Here o ur task is slightly easier. Easier to blaze a way intO the heart of things abolished or superseded, in o rder to decipher the contours of the banaJ as picture puwe- in order to stan a concealed William leU from OUt of wooded entrails, or in o rder to ~ able to answer the question, "Where is the bride in this picture?" Picturt: puzzles, as schemata of dreamwork, were long ago discovered by psychoanalysis. V*, however, with a similar conviction, are less on the trail of the psyche than on the track of things. 1M! seek the totemic o-ce of objects within the thicket of primal histOl),- The very last-the topmost-face o n the totem pole is that of kitsch. [11,3)
NIl IlIt:~ of tlifrcrcnt ty"c~ nf trllyc!illg car fnull the .'url), yell rs of the railroad : 11I-r!in (clu~ed IIml 1)1';-11). tlitigence. furllj~ht.·d '·"'Ic h . nnfllrnisllcd cOII(:h . 0 Iroll CUlI.SlrUdiulI 0 11I 3,2J
The confrontation with furniture in Poe. Snuggle dream.
··This yell.r, tl)O. IIJ1ri.lIg Ilrrh'ed t·llrlier uud nUJrc heu uliflllihull CYf'r, ~u il lu!, 10 IdJ t he Irutil , ...... ,'olJd n u t riSluly re nwlIl l.er llll~ 1·);i~ I .... IIt'c .,r ....inlt-r in tl,,·se JUlrls. nor
to
awake from the coUective [Il .4)
" We hayc witll~lIsed the ullprcl.:edt'nted- nlurnagetl betwl"t'/l stylbi that ODe w{)uld haye believetl eter nally irlt;()Illpatible: hilts of till- I<~i rilt Empire or the RClilorulion Wbrn \o·it.b Louis XV jltcket!> , Directory-style gO Wn!i IJlIired with high- h~.I c<:llInkl c bouts-and . still bellt·r. low-....ais ted coat.s wurn uYer Iligh-....aisled .Irl:~'":s:- Jnlm (: ra ll.I-Cartcrl: t. Le,t EI;;lIfl11 CP.~ de III ,oileUe ( PariJt), p . );"i. [I la , I)
whether the fireplace was there (or any purpose other than supporting on its manIC! the timepieces and cillUJelabru that lire known to ornament every room here; for the true Pari,l;ian would l"1l1.her e at one (:Ollrse les8 per clay than forgo his ' mllllltlipiece arrangc menl. '" Lebende Bilder UIU dem nlodermm fur-is, " vols.
(Cologlle, 1863- 1866), vol. 2, p. 369 ("Ein klliserliehes Familienhild").
-
[lIa.3]
1lueshold magic. At the entrance to the skating rink, to the pub, to the tcruris court, to resort locations: Pf:1lait:.J. The hen that lays the golden praline-cggs, the machine that stamps our names on nameplates, slot machines, fortune telling devices, and above all weighing devices (the Delphic gn6//ii seautcm1 of our day)these guard the threshold. OddJy, such machines don't flourish in the city, but rather are a component of excursion sites, of beer gardens in the suburbs. And when, in search of a link greenery, one heads for these places on a Sunday afternoon, one is rurning as well to the mysterious thresholds. Of course, this same magic prevails more covertly in the interior of the bourgeois dwelling. Chairs beside an entrnnce, photogJjlphs Banking a doorway, are fallen household deities, and the violence they must appease grips our hearts even today at each ringing of the doorbell. Try, though. to withstand the violence. Alone in an aparttnent. try not to bend to the insistent ringing. You will find it as difficult-as an exorcism. Like aU magic substance, this too is once again reduced at some point to sex-in pornography. Around 1830, Paris amused itself with obscene lithos that featured sliding doors and windows. These were the Images diteJ Ii porlu d ii/mitre5, by Numa Bassajet. [l1a,41 Concerning the dreamy and, ifpo!Jsihle, oriental interior: " Everyone here dreams of inlltant fortune; e veryone aims to have. lit one stroke. what in pellceful and indu8triOUH times would C08t a lifetime of effort. The creations of the poets are full of sudden metumorpholles in domestic existence; they all rave about marquise!! and princesses, about tbe prodigies of the Thoulland and One Nighu, It is an opium trallce that has overspread the whole population , and indwtry is more to blame for tlus than poetry, Industry was respons ible for the swindle in the Stock ExcbllllgC. the ex ploitation of aU things made 10 serve artificial needs, and the .. . dividend ll.·' Gutzkow, BrieffJ aWl Paru
..•.
While art seeks out the intimllte view, . . . induslry mllrches to the fOl'c." Oc· tave Mirhellu , in U FY5ureJ (1889). (See Encyclopedie d 'a rchitecture [1889]
)
~~
011 the exhihition of 1867. " These high galleries, kilome ters ill length , were of an uflfleltiaLle grandeur. The lIoise of mac hinery filled them. And il s hould 1101 be forgotten thai , whell this exhibition held its famou s gala s , gue~18 8tjIJ dru\'e up to the felltil'itics in II conch-and -eight. As wa ~ u ~ lIal with rooms at this pe rioll. a tIc ul pts were IIIlu.le---lhrlJugh furniture-like iJll1 tllllllti<JIIs-1CJ prettify these twe nty· five-metcr-ltigh gaUt'ries alullu r.·lie ve the Ilusterity uf their Jellign . One tHood ill fear uf line's own mlignihHlc.·' SigfrietJ Giedio n. Bauen i" Frtmkre.ich (Leipzig II.lId Berliu , 1928>. 1). 43. [1101,71
Under the bourgeoisie, cities as well as pieces of furniture retain the character of fortifications, ';Ttll now, il was mefortified dry which constantly paralyzed tOwn plaruling," Le Corbusier, Urv(misme (paris <1925». p. 249.~ [lIa,31 TIle ancient correspondence between house and cabinet acquires a new variant through the insertion of glass roundels in cabinet doors. Since when? \\he these also found in France? [Ila,gJ TIle bourgeois pasha in the imagination of contemporaries: Eugene Sue. He had a castle in Sologne. There, it was said, he kept a harem filled with women of color. Mter his death, the legend arose that he had been poisoned by the Jesuits.' [12,1]
GlItzkow re ports thai tile exhihitioll salolls were full of oriental scenes calculated to arouse enthusillsm for Algiers . [12,2J
On the ideal of "distinction." "Everything tends toward the 8ourisil, toward the curve, toward intricate cOIlVoluti·on. \>Vhat the reader does not perhaps gather at fim sight, however, is that this manner of laying and arranging things also incorporates a setting apart---one that leads us back to the knight. I The c:upet in the foreground lies at an angle, diagonally. The chairs are likewise arranged at an angle, diagonally. Now, this could be a coincidence. But if we were to meet with this propensity to situate objects at an angle and diagonally in all the dwellings of all classes and social strata-as, in fact , we do-then it can be no coincidence. .. . In the first place, arranging at an angle enforces a distinction-and this, once more, in a quite literal sense. By the obliquity of its position, the object sets itself off from the ensemble, as the carpet does here ... , But the deeper explanation for all this is, again. the unconscious retention of a posture of struggle and defense./ In order to defend a piece of ground, I place myself expressly on the diagonal, because then I have a free view on two sides. It is for this reason that the bastions of a fortification arc constructed to fonn salient angles .... And doesn't the carpet, in this position, recall such a bastion? ... IJust as the knight, suspecting an attack, positions himself crosswise to guard both left and right, so the peaceloving bwgher, several centuries later, orders his art objects in such a way that each one, if only by standing out from all the rest, has a wall and mOal surrounding it. He is mus truly a Spim viirger, a militant philistine." Adolf Behne, .Nmts Wl)hl/~I-Nr IlI!5 Btllll!1l (Leipzig, 1927), pp. 45- 48. In elucidating this point, the author remarks half-seliously: "The gcmlemen who could afford a villa wanted to mark their higher standing. What easier way man by borrowing feudal fonns , knight.ly fonus ?" (ibid. , p. 42). More universal is Lukacs' remark tllat, from the perspective of the philosophy of history. il is characteristic of the middle classes that tbeir Ilew opponent, the proletariat, should have entered the arena at a momcnt when tile old adversary. feudalism, was not yct vanquished. And they will never quite have done with feudalism. [12.31
Maurice Banes has characterized ProUSt as "a Persian poet in a concierge's box." Could lhe fi rst, person to grapple with !.he enigma of the n.inclccmh-ccnlury interior be anything else? (l1\C citation is in Jacques-Emile Blanche, Me; Modele; [Paris. 19291 ?) ' 112.41
-
Anllounce me nt pul.lishcd ill tile ncw' p " lH:.f il; "'Notice .- Molis ie ur Wie rtz offcl"iIlO pailll a picture free nf ~:h a rge (o r a ny lo \'ers of painting who , poll8csslng 811 uriginal Rubelll or Raphael. wOllld like 10 p lace his work as II peudaJ'l1 beside til(: "" ork of eilher of tll ~ masters," A. J. Wiertz . Oeuvre" lilterairef (Pariil , 1870). I" 335.
112.5]
Nhlcteenth-ccnrury domestic interior. The sp;u:e..d.is ~jtself=p~ o~ like an ~~g creature, the costumes of moods. The self·satis6ed burgher should knO;something of the feding that the ne.'C' room might have witnessed the coronation of Charlemagne as .....'CUas the assassination of Henri Iv, the signing of the Treaty of Verdun as well as the wedding af Otto and Theophano. In the end, thing! are merely mannequins, and even the great moments of world history are only costumes beneath which they exchange glances of complicity with nOlhingnes~ with the petty and the banal. Such nihilism is the innermost core of bourgeois coziness-a mood that in hashish intoxication concentrates to satanic COntent· ment, satanic knowing, satanic calm, indicating precisely to what extent the nineteenth-ttntury interior is itself a stimulus to intoxication and dream. 1bis moOa involves, furthermore , an aversion to the open air, the (so to spe · ra· nian amlosphere, which throws a new light on the extravagant interior design of the period. To live in these interiors was to havt woven a dense fabric about oneself, to have secluded onest.lf within a spider's web, in whose toils world events hang loosely suspended like-so many insect bodies sucked dry. From this cavtm , one does not like to stir.J [12,6) During my second experiment with hashish. Staircase in CharlotteJoeJ's studio. I said: "A structure habitable only by wax figures. I could do so much with it plastically; Piscator and company can just go pack. Y\buld be possible for me to change the lighting scheme with tiny levers. I can tranSfonn the Goethe house into the Covent Garden opera: can read from it the whole of world history. 1 see, in this space, why I collect colportage images. Can see everything in this roomthe sons of Charles III and what you will."
[123,2)
"Silu;c tllr g1ill{·ring a rcudc" hUH' I"'t'll ,'ul through till' slrcets. tl u~ Pulllis. Hoyal ha " d fc"li yd y 10 111 ,mt . SonIC wOlllll l ay: since thc timCIl haY l'. growu more virt uoU8. Wha l ""l're o nce ~ m a ll ctJbilUu~ Imrli(: uiier. "f ill rellUle hU\'e no ..' br conm ~ "Ulki "g
room!! in eilffeeho UlIt:8 . EHclr ,·off,·!·hon!l-e III," II smoking room known U8 tile lliG ulzkow, Briefe {Ill.' Pur;., (Leipzig. IIH2). '0'01. 1, p. 226. 0 Ar uudes 0
, :£10 ."
[12a,3] "The gn:ut Be rlin indLUlriul c",ILillitinfl ii full of imlJOsing R ~ n a i.U Hll ce rooms: even Ihr as htrays ur~ i.1I untilluc lIyll'.. III I'. c tlrluins Ita ye to he IIl!curt'; d with halbe rdl. cUltlll1t' huU 'IH' ye r ulrli ill windl)w ulld cabine t." 70 Jahre deuuche Mode ( 1925). p. i2 .
[12a.41
An observation from the year 1837. "In those days. the classical style reigned, just as the rococo does today. With a stroke of its magic wand, fashion . .. transformed the salon into an atrium, armchairs into curule seats, dresses with trains intO tunics, drinking glasses into goblets, shoes intO buskins, and guitars intO lyres.- Sophie Gay, D"" Salon d"" Friiulein Contt!l (in Europa: ClzruniA der gr.biUkten Welt, ed. August Lewald, vol. 1 [Leipzig and Stuugan, 1837], p. 358). Hence the following: ""What is the height of embarrassment?" "When you bring a harp to a party and no one asks you to play it." 1bis piece of drollery, which also illuminates a certain type of interior, probably datcs from the Hrst Empire. [J2a,5)
!;As to Baudelaire's 'stage properties'-which were no doubt modeled on the fashion in interior decoration of his day-they Dlight provide a useful lesson for those elegruu ladies of the past twenty years, who used to pride themselves that not a single 'false note' was to be found in their town houses. They would do well to consider, when they contemplate the alleged purity of style which they have achieved with such infinite uouble, that a man may be the greatest and most artistic. of writers, yet describe nothing but beds with 'adjustable curtains' .. . • ha1Is like conservatories . . . , beds filled with subtle scents. sofas deep as tombs, whamots loaded with Bowers, lamps burning so brieBy .. . that the only light COmes from the coal fire ." Marcel Proust, Clzroniqur.s (Paris <1927)), pp. 224-2251 (the titles of works cited are omitted). These remarks are important because they make it possible to apply to tlle interior an antinomy formulated with regard to museums and town planning- namely. to confront the new style with the mysti· ca1·nihilistic expressive power of the traditional, the oI anriquated." Which of these two a1tematives Proust would have chosen is revealed not only by this passage, it may be added, but by the whole of his work (compare rr.nfimu'-"closed-up," ~ mus [}'I') .
[J2a,6]
Desideratum: the derivation of genre painting. What function did it serve in the rOoms that had need of it? It was the last stage- harbinger of the fact that soon these Spaces would no longer, in general, welcome pictures. "Genre painting. .. . Conceived in this way, an could not fail to reson to the specialties so suited to the m~rketp l acc: eacll artist wants to have his own specialty, from the pastiche of the MJddle Ages to microscopic painting, from the routines of the bivouac to Paris fashions, fium horses to dogs. Public taste in this regard does not discrlnU·
-
nale.... 'The same pic.ture can be copied twenty times without uhauscing demand and, as the vogue prescribes, each wdl-hpt drawing room wants to have onc of these f'ashionable .fUrnishingJ." W ler-tt. Oe,IVW littiraire; <Paris, 1870>, pp.527-528. [12 •. 71
"The dra wing room!! of t.he 5(.-':011.1 Empire I'ontailled ... a piece of fu r niture (Iwtt! rt:Crn tl y iU"('nted and lod ay completely j'xtinct : it. W ll~ the jiulleu.se. You IIDt on it as tride. ,,·hile Icaning bst;k 0 11 uphoilltcrctl llrm- relltll 111111 enjoying II cigar." Louis Snnulct . U . Vie pariJIie mte $Q/U Ie Secufld Empire ( Puis, 1929), p . 253. [13,9)
Against the: armature of glass and iron., upholstery o ffers resistance with its [e."(tiles. 113, 1)
u "fat a morgana" (If the inlerior; " Whoever raist:'!! wi th Iheir irOIl rDiliugs tracing the upper edge of the long gray boule\'urd hlocks , dis('o\'cnJ the va riety and inexhll1l8tihility of lhe concel,t 'cbinule)'" In 1I11 11egrees of III:iglll, breadth , 11 1111 length , the s mokes tllcks rise fro m their base iJl the eommOIl stolle flu es; they runge fro m simple day pipes. oftentimes half- broken and s toolled with age . 11. 1111 those tin pipe!! wi tll Ral plate. or pointed ('a ps .... to revolviug chimney cowls urtfull y llerforu tctllike visor s or upen 011 one side. with b izar re soot· hlat:kened metal fl a ps .... It ill dIe ... lender irony of the une single form by whil·It llaris . .. halJ h t:t! 1l ahle to preser"e the fIIa gic of inti. mucy.... So it iii as if the urba nc coexi ~ h!ll ce ... that is characteristic of this city wcre to hI:: filet with aga in 11)1 there on tlte rooftops. " J oachim von U dmer&eo , " Parlser Kumine;' Frunk!urter Zeitung, Fe bruary 10. 1933. [13,101
O ne need only study with due exactirudc the physiognomy of the: homes of great collectors. Then one would have the key to the nineteenth-century interior. Just
as in the former case the objects gradually take possession of the residence, so in the latter it is a piece o f furniture that would retrieve and assemble the sty~tic traces of the centuries. 0 'Abrld of Things 0
[13,2)
Why does the glance intO an unknown window al~ys find a familr at a ,meal, or e~ a solitary man, seated at a table under a hangmg lamp, occupIed wuh some obscure niggling thing? Such a glance $ the germ cdl o f Kafka's work. [13,3]
-
The masquerade of styles, as it unfolds across the nineteenth «mury, resuhs from the faa that relations of dominance become obscured, The holden of power in the bourgeoisie no longer necessarily exercise this po.....er in the places where they li~ (as rentiers). and no longer in direct unmediated forms . The style of their residences is their false immediacy. Economic alibi in space. Interior alibi .Ul wne. . ~~
"'The art would be to be able to fed homesick, even though one is at home. Expertness in the use of illusion is required for this." Kierkegaard, Sijmtlit:~ '.Ver..t.!' <properly: G.!'SQlnm.!'it.!' Wer..tn. vol. 4 ~ena, 19 14), p. 12 <Stag.!'J 011 Life'; H-ap.' This is the Cannula for the interior. [13,5] " 'nwllrdneu is thc hhltor ical prison of primordial human nature." Wiesengrulld. Adorno , Ki4!rkegaCird (Tfihingen . 1933). p . 68.~ {13,ti] Second Empire. "' It is this epoch thai lleeli the birth of the logical H)>eciaLization ~y genus and lipecies thai still preva ils in most homes, li nd tha t r eserves oak aDd lio.hd wa lnut for the dining room a mi 8tud y. gilded wood ond lacquers for the t1 ruwlIIg '· 1room ." Lo tlllI · Sono It room , marquetry olld ve neering for the lJec e , LoVie porilielille l OU'"' Ie Second Empire (paris . 1929), p . 25 1. [13.7} " WIIIII d omina led Ihis conception of fllrnis hiug. ill II mallner IlO pronouP('ed as 10 j'pil omi'tf" dIe wllole , WU I tiltltaste fur dra ped fuhricli . Mm ple hangingH, a lld the lI.rt uf lIa rmoll i:r.ing them all in a vis ual t:lIscnlble.'· Luuis Sonnlet , Ln Vie parisie lltl e ~(l1U Ie Seco nd Empire ( I'arls, 1929). " . 253 . [13.8]
0 11 the " fili gr'!e of chimneys"
"hi eyes to the
IIOII SetOpS.
Wit'sengr ulld cites anti 001lllllent8 on a pU8suge from Ihe Dillry o/u Seducer-a IJassage tha t he i~o ns id t'.J'8 the key t o Kicrkcgaard's "entire llI~ u " re": " Environment and t.ettill~ ~ till have a great infIucm.:c upon one; there is something ahout them which s taml'lI itself finnl y a nd deeply in Ihe memory, or r ather 0l)))n the whole l OW. and whicll is thcn"'fore never forgotten . However old I may hecome, il will always be impossible for me to think of Cordelia unlid slIrroundi019' different from thia Little room. Whell ) come 10 visit her, lite maid admiLl me to the h all ; Cordelia herself comes ill from Iler room , arut , just as I open tlte door to eUler the [ivi.ng roo m, s he OlleDI her door. /10 thai oW' eyes I Dect exacd y in Ihc d oorway. The Ihing room is slllali . comforlaLle, Linle more than a I!8hinet. Ahhuugb I ha ve 1I0 W seen it frolll lIIall Y different "iewpoinLl, the out' dea reHt to me is lilt' view from the !lora . She sits there b y my side: in fro nt of liS sta nds 0 round tea lable. over which is draped II rich ta blecloth . O n th t' ta ble s tands a lamp s haped like a fl ower, which shoots lip vigorously to beu r iii crown , I,veI' which a deLicalely cut paper s hade hangs down lIO lightl y that il ill never slill . The lamp'lI form rl'lIIindi olle of oriental IIIUlla: the sh atl~'8 mO\'efllcnt . !If mild oril.'n lal li N;:e'te@ . The floor is conceuled by a carpet woven frolll a cert.uin kind of o~ier. ,,·hich inum"tlilliely betray! its foreign OrlgUl. For d ie mo mellt . ) II,t the lamp bero me the kl:Yllute of III)' landscape. ) am ' itting tlw rc with her outslrcld led 0 11 tlJ(' Hou r, 111111;,1' the la mp 's nuwl·ring. At uthcr tilll u I lei the (lsil'r rug c\'oke Ih(lu gbt8 (If a shil'. of Ull officer's Cilhill- we sail nut illltJ the middle of tlw grea t 111'1.'11.11 . WIlI'n ,,',' sit a l II distallci' rroni the windl)w, wr gaze dircctl y illhl heU \'ell 'll \'U8t horizoll . . .. Cordelia 's r ll "ironment mus t hllve uo fu reground . b ut onl y the infini te ImMll e~,; (If fa r hori'tolllO" (Gel/tlnl . me/te ScJ.rifte ri <propel'I)' : Wc rk f' (J ell" . 19 11 I), ,,01 . I. mJ. 348...J4'J I f..'it lu:rIOr]). It'seugr lUul remark,; " Jltiita8 c",lel'lIu l hi ~ t o ry is ' ,-ell" ell-II" ill iulCl'lIu l hilltor y. ~(' lI\hlull ce <Sclieill ) is ill Ihe imerictlr II p IU:C. KierkcguD rtl,w 1II0re ,lisCt' n ll'd lilt' d enlent of IIcmhlunce in all IIIr.rely refl "o!l~W IIlIti rdiccl.illll: intrasu.(,jecti,·e reali ty
.,.
-
tJmn he lIee8 lilrllugh the Ht:lllh'llnce of the spatial in Ule imQgtl of the interior. Bill Iwre lu: i , expo ~cJ by the malenu!. . . . The contents of IIle inle rior are lII e~ decoratiOIl . II I.it:naleJ from the purpo8et1 lhey represent. deprived of thd e own use \'ulue. engendered solely II)' t11 ~ isolated dweiliDg-S p IU~ . . . . The self is overwhelmed ill iLS own domain by commodities and their historical euence. T ild e sembla nce-churacter i8 hitlorically-ecoDomicaUy produced by the alienation of IMlg from use value. Oul in the interior, thinp! do DOl n:main alien .... Foreil9lnl!!!8 tran, fonull it.self from alienated things into expreuion: mute thing!! speak Il' 'symbou. · Thl' uellering of things in the dwelling·space i. caUed ' UrriiDsement .' Historically illusory (GtJCAjdJ//jdl Jdt~inl/(ifle> objects are arranged in it I II the leDlLiQnee of ullchangeable nature. In the interior. archaic image unfolt! : the i nla~e of the Rower a that of organic life; the image of the orient all IIpedfically the home. land of ycarnillg: the image of the sea as thaI of eternity Haclf. For the &emblim ce 10 which the hiiloriCDI hour condt'Dins things is elernal."'t Theotlor WieaengmndAdo rno , Kierkegrwrd (Tubingcn , 1933), pp. 46-48 . 111 [13 ;II}
The bourgeois who came into ascendancy with Louis Philippe sets ston: by the transformation of narure into the interior. In 1839, a ball is held at the British embassy. Two hundred rose bushes'jlI"C ordered. "The garden," so runs~ eyewitness account, "was covered by an awning and had the feci of a drawing room. But what a d rawing room! The fragrant, well'Slocked Bower beds had turned into eno rmous jardiniem , the graveled walks had disappean:d under sumptuous carpets, and in place of the cast·iron benches we found sofas covered in damask and silk; a round table held books and albwns. From a distance, the strains of an orchestra drifted intO this colossal boudoir." [14,11 Fashion jounulis or the IJeriod containeil instructions for preserving bouque18 .
i.nvent some sort of casing for! fbcket watches, slippers, egg cups, thermometers, playing cards- and, in licu of cases, there were jackets, carpets, wrappers, and covers . The twentieth century. with its porosity and transparency, its tendency toward the "ocU·lit and airy, has put an end to d\\oclling in the old sense. Set off against the doU ho use: in the residence o f the master builder Solness are the "homes for h wnan being:'l." 11 Jugendstil unsetded the world of the shel1 in a radical way. Today this world has disap~d entirely, and dwelling has dimin· ished: for the living, through hOld rooms; for the dead, through crt.m.atoriums.
11' ,' 1 ~To dwell" as a transitive verb-as in the no tion of "indwelt spaces";'l herewith an indication of the frenetic topicality concealed in habitual behavior. It has to do
with fashioning a shcU for ourselves.
[14,51
" From under s Lltlie coral branchcs aDd bUl heli, they swam into view; from onder every tKllle , ever y chair; fru m out of the drawerH of the oM-rashioned cabinets and wardrobcs IhKt i tood ~;thin this lit range clubroom- in short , from ever y hand'abreadth cof bidi.ng which the spot Ilrovided to the smallest of fI sh , they suddeld y canle to liCe alld showed themselves." Friedrich Ger stiicker, Die verlunkene Sladt (Berlin : Neurel.J alld I-lenius, 1921 ), p. 46. [148,1) From a review or Eugene Sue', Jui! erranl (Wandering Jew>. criticized ror various reaso ns. including the d enigratiull or llie J C!luitli and tlle unmanageable abundance ur charactcnl who do nothinlll but al>pear and dillappear: "A novel is not a place olle punes through ; it is a place one inhabits." Paulin Limayrac, " Du Roman actuel 1'.1 dc 111.1 11 ro mancienl," Revue des deux mondel, II . no. 3 (paris, 1845), [~~ p. % I.
114.21 '"Like
od alisque upon a i himmerint; bronze di van , the proud city Liea amid warm , vine--clad hills in the lIerpentine valley of the Seine." Friedrich Enge:Lt, " Von Pari! nach Bern," Die neue Zeil. 17, no. I (Stuttga rt , 1899). I'. 10. [14 ,3) 11 0
lbe difficulty in reBecting on dwelling: on the one hand, there is something age-old-perhaps eternal-to be recognized here, the image o f that abode of the human being in the maternal womb; on the other hand, this motif o f primal history notwithstanding, we must understand dwelling in its m ost extreme fonn as a condition of ninetcenth-cenrury existence. The original form of all d wdling is existence not in Utc house but in the shell. The shell bears the impression o f its occupant. In the most extreme instance, the dwelling becomes a shd!. The Trineteencll cenrury, like no other century, was addicted to dwelling. It conceived the residence as a receptacle for the person, and it encased him with all his appune· nances so deeply in the dwelling's i.nterior that one might be reminded o f the: inside o f a compass case, when:: the instnunent with all its accessories lies embedded in deep, usually violet folds of velvet. What d idn't the nineteenth cenrury
On Literary Empire. Nel>ODlOcime Lemercier hrint;8 onlO the stage, under allegorical names. the- Monar chy, the Church , thl" Aristoeraey, the Demagogues, the Empire. the Police, Uteralun :, and the Coalition uf European powers. Hit arti.Htic mearu : " the fan tastic a ppLieil t: mhleIll8ticall y." Hill maxim : "Alluliions are my weapolIs; allegory, my hucld.·r." NI- ponlllcene Lemereier, Suile de Panhypor:ril inde. ou Le Spec,,,cle i,l/erlml dll dix· nell viem.e sieck (Paris, 1832), PI). ix , [14a,3] vii .
'0
Frmn tllt~ ··EXpOSl· I)reiimilluirc" to L.cmcn :ier 'lI LampClie et Dugllerrr!': " A short prca mbl.· is IIl'r.c8~ ar y In inlrothu'c my u\uliellce to the cQDlpositional stra.legy uf thi ~ 110e lll . w ho ~e ~ ubj ctjl i8 prui ~ ,' for the ,Iilll'overy Illude by the Wustriou8 ar tist M. Ouguel....·; t],i~ iii, II di8CtlVcry f,If Clltllli illterest tu the Academ)' or Science and the AClltlcmy of Fine Art~. ror it .:0l1e,·r118 the I ttltly £If liraw-iog liS much us the $111'])' vr physics ... . 0 11 tl1I' ocrasion of such a n hOOlllge, I would Like 10 see a ncw in vt:ntioll i.1l l}Qctry all plied lIItlli, cxtra.ordinary d iAcovery. We know thllt ancicnt It, yth u l o~ .. , t:XIIJaincll IllIlUnl phcuomena b y lI)'mbolk beings, acli ve rt' J>re· stntationlj .or th.· lIa rl.icular principici embodied in things . ... Modem imit ationl
hllve . up 10 now. borrower! only the fomlll of duuicaJ 11Of:lry; I llIn endeavorin g 10 IIpproprill.te for II ~ the principle and the s ubs ta nce. TIl!' lenclc ut,y of the ve r~ifi erll of o ur century ill 10 r!!duce the art of the mU~e!I til I'rllclicallilld trivia l re alities. easily comprt!iJcl1sible by Ihe average pc>rson. ThiA is 1101 progrCI! Lilli dl..'Cudt'nce. The ongiual c nlhllsiHll m of Iht' a nc ients. by contras t , tcndetllo elevate the human intc Uigcllce hy initililing it into thosc ecrets of nalu re revealed by the e1cgantJy ideal fahles .. , . It it not without encouragement that llay bare for you the foun d.tion ~ of my theory, which I have applied .. . 10 Newtonian pb.ilollophy in my
-
Allanliade. The lea rned geometer Lagrange has been so generous
lUI 10
voice ap-
proval of my IIltemp! 10 crea le for our modern muses tha t great rarit y: a tlI COSGI'hy . . . conforPiing to ac« ui red knoVt·ledge." NelK)P1uCene lA!me rdcr. Sur lu Decouverte de I'ingenieux IJein ,re du diorama.: Setm r:e l}f1blique RtlllUelie de. cinq ocademre:s de j elldi 2 mai 1839 (paris . 1839), pp. 2 1-23. [I4a.4] On tht!- iUu8ionistic; painting of th .. J uste Milieu: 13 "'The painter must ... be 11 good dramatis t , a gootl co!;ttuner. and a skillful dir«tor. . . . The publie ... is much more inte rested in the ~ uhj ectthlln in the artistic (Iulllities. 'bn' t the most difficult thing lhe hle nding of colors?-No, res ponds a connoiBBeur. it 's getting the fis h ', scales right . Sli ch wa ll the idea of aesthetic creation a mong prOrellSOr8, lawyers, dodo r8; evcrywllcJ'c one a dmired lhc miracle of trompe-l'oeil. AllY lIIi-;;rmally s uccclIsrul imitation w!luld guruer praillc. '" GiIlela FrclUld . "L.a Pho togra phie du point tie vue sociologit(ue" (Manuscript, p. 102). The quotation ill from Juletl Breton , NOl IJeilllre! dll ,;ecie, p . 41.
[15, 11
Plush-the material in which uaces are left especia1ly easily.
[15,2]
Furthering the fa shion in knic kkllacu are the advances in metullurgy . .... hich has iu o rigin ll in the First EUlpire. " During this period. grUUpll of cupidll ulld bacchantell apl'eurt'4.l for the finltime .... Today. a rt owns a shop and dil! pluys the marvels of iu crealionlf on shelves of gold or crystal , whereas io those tlaye ma!ll erJ)i~es of s tatuary, reducell in preciJre I'rOI)ortio o , were soltl at u discount . The Thr f'f! Cruce, of Canova fOUlld 11 place ill the boudoir, while the lJ(l cchanlU ami t he f 'ul/n of Pradier hud Ihe honors of the bridal c bamlJer." Ellouurd Foucaud, Pnru ;nL'en,eur: PI'),! iologie de l'indlt~ lriefra'It;(lile ( Parill , 1841). PI" 196197 . (15,3]
" Thi! lIcic nct. of the pus ter ... ha s atiainclllhat rare degree of pcrf" cti(lll a t which s kill turlill into art . And hcn' I am 1101 spcaking IIf lhose extraordimLl'y placards • • • Oil whkh e"l'~rl s ill l:uUigraphy .. underl llkc to r cpl'll>M!lI t Nllpull:oll 011 ho rsebac k by tUl iuSt'oious "<.JIllbinal:ion (If (jllell in which the cou nc of hill histury iii sinmit ullI'ollsl)' IUlnule" a lld d epicted . No. ( s hall confinc mYl!elf to ordinary 1111810'1')1. Ju ~ 1 wt.oe how fa r liu;se have ilct'll uiJIe to (lus h tim dmIU"lIc," of tYilO' gru"h y. the ~Ct lli eli oll'" of lhe \·iglw lIe. the fu ~c ina tinnll IIf color, by IIs ing lilt' lIIost \'arictl ami h r iUillnlllf huell 10 le nd pe rfulious s upport to the rU le" of tJ,~ publill h-
ers!" Victor Fuurtu:I, Ce (Ill 'Q " lJail (Ifill! Ie, rile, de Paris ( Paris, 1858), pp . 29329'l (" ElllleigIlCll l't u(fi (' ht'~'·). [15.4] Interior of Mplll)lllltl Karr'! u"artlllt~lIt : " Ue liyes like /10 o ne d se. These days he', the 5ix th or seventh Boor ubove the Rue Vivie nne. The Rue Vivienne for a n a rtisl! His Hpprtlllt:nt is hung in blac k : he hal windowpanes of viole t or white fl'osLed glass. He has ne ither tahle. nur c hairs (at IIImt, a lI.ingie c hair for excelitio nal \'is itors), alltlll!! s l~ p' on a divan- fully dresutl , I'm told. He lives like a Turk. o n cus hions. und writes lIitting 011 the floor.... His walls are decorated with \.prious o ltl th illS!! ' .. ; C hinese valleS, d eatll · heads. fencer'~ foils , and tobacco pipes orllPme nt e\'e r y corner. For u servant , he h al a mulatto .... hom he outfits in ~I. arlet from head to loe.- Jules Lecomte, Let l..ettre! (Ie "an Engefsom, ed. Alme ras ( Paris , 1925). pp. (»-&1. (IS,S]
,JI\
From Daumier'OJ CroquiJ Wi! au 5(1/011 (Sketches Made at the Salon). A solitary art-love r illdicaling a pict ure 011 which two miser a ble poplars are represented in a fl a t IUlidscape: " W hat society could be a & d egcne rate and corrupt a s ours? .. • E\'eryon tl looks at pictu res of more or leS8 mons trou s scenes, hUI 110 one 810pS (15a,11 hefore Ull image of hea utiful ulIII pure nature ."
00 tlle occasion of u mllrtler cale in 1..!.IIllion wlLich turned on the discovery of a suck cOllta ining the victim 's body pa ris. together with remnanu or clothing; from the laller, the police were able to draw ct::rtllin conclus ionll. " 'So man y things in a minuet! ' a celebruted dancer u.!letl to say. So many things in ao overcoal !-when circumstullceB and men make it spellk. You will s uy it 's a bit much to expect II person, each timo! i1e ac«uire1ll1 topcout, to cons ide r that oo eday it may lIerve him a s a windinfj s li.:et. 1 admit that my suppositio ns a.r e lIat exactly rose-colored. But, I rel~at , . . . the week' e \'enUl have been d o leful ." 11 . de Pene, Paris intime (paris. 1859) . I). 236. [I5a,2) Furniture lit the time IIf the Resturation : ·'sofa s. divll1l8, oltomalls, love scali, rt.':t.'linc n. settees." J lu!tlues Rubit(uet . t 'Ar, el Ie gou, SOUl la Rest(luratlon ( Paris , 1928), p . 202. (1511,3] " W" have IIlreally said ... thutllUllia nit y is rcgrcssing to the s tate of cave dwelle r, awl so 'm- bllt thllt it is rcgrcu ing in 1111 estra ngetl. malignalll form. The savage in h is cavl: . . . ft'('ls .. . at IW IlIi' thcre .. . . But tlli' hu ~enll"lIt apartnulIlt of the "oor man is it h c,stilo! tlv.'dli n g, . a n ulif' lI . re8 1ruiniJIg powl"r, which gives itself up to hjPl 'lilly illsofa l' as he givt·g up III it Ilis IJlood a nd swelll.' S li ch u dwelling call ne ve r feel tiki' hOlllP , a place whe re he miglll li l la,;! exl'laim, ' Here I am at hUlue!' Ins tead , til<' 1,I>or mllll iilltill hilllllelf ill 801llCi) ne d sr 's home, , ' . SlImCOlle wllO dail y lie' in wait fur hilll a nd lilruws hilll 0111 if hc d ocs 1101 pay his relit. H e is aho awartl of the contrast in tlllaHt y IJdv.'eell his .Iwelling 111111 a illlmall dwelling-a reside nce in that o lher ....orld , the he ave n of wealth:' Karl Ma r x. Del' l,i! ' oriM!h e Muleriulunllt.J,
I~.
wnd8hut and Maye r (Leipzig c1932» . vol. I , I" 325 ("Na tio llulOkuDomie und Pltiloi ollilic " ). I I [ISa,4J
-
Valery on Poco Ile ulllie rlill el! the Ameri ca n wrill; r '8 incomparable ilillight into the cOlulitjon s and eJfeeu of literary work in general: " Wha t di stinguishell a trul y gem:ral phe nome non ill ils fertilit y. . . . It is therefore not lIurprillin g that Poe, posscl!8ingllo effective and lI ure a method , became the inventor of IIcvt!ra.1different lill!ra ry Corms-that he provided the fi"! .. . eumpleB of the licienlific tale. the modern cosmogcmic poem, the delective novel , the lite"lIture of morbid psycho-logical 81ates. " Valery, " Introd uction" ,o Baudelaire. Le, Fleur. du rrwl <Paris, 1926~ , p . XX . I~ [15a.5]
In the following description of a Parisian salon, Gautier gives drastic expression to the integration of the individual into the interior: "The eye, entranced. is led to the groups of ladies who, Buttering their fans, lislen
[0
the talkers half-reclining.
Their eyes are sparkling like diamonds ; their shoulders giistOl like satin; and their lips open up like flowers ." (Artificial things come forth!) Paris e! les ParisitnJ aux XIX' sieck (Paris, 1856), p. iv (fheophile Gautier, "Introduction") . [16,1] ./
Balzac's interior decorating in the rnther ill-fated property Les Ja.rdies: '~ "1his house ... was one of the romances on which M . de Balzac worked hardest during his life, but he was never able to finish it ... . 'On these patient walls,' as M. Gozlan has said, ' there were charcoal inscripriol1.'l to this effect: "Here a facing in Parian marble"; " H ere a cedar stylobate"; "H ere a ceiling painted by Eug6le De1aooix"; "H ere a fireplace in cipolin marble."'" Alfred Neuemellt, Histoire dt la liltiratuft ftanraist sous Ie tpUlImIC1Itnt de juille! (Paris. 1859), vol. 2, pp. 26626Z [16,2[ Devdopmem of "The Interior" chapter: entry of me prop into film,
[16,3]
you are. TIle durability of products is disappearing on all sides!" Ernst Robert [16,5)
Curtius, & Iuu (Bonn, 1923), pp. 28- 29.
" Sunsl:tlj I:ul their glowing colorll on the WIIU S of !lining room and drawing room , filtering 80flly throllgll lovely hanginS'! or intriCllte high will/lows with lIIullioned panes. All the furniture is immense , fant astic, stra nge, armed wilh locks and secret!! like aU civilizet.l ~oub . Mirrorli , metals, fabrica, pottery, and wur ks of the goldsmith 's arl playa Dlilte mYlIterious sYfnpbony for the eye." Charles BaudeIllire, Le Spleen de Puri-!, ell. R. Simon (Puris), p . 27 (" L' lnvilation all voyage" )Y
[16a, I) Etymology of the worll " comfort ." " I.n English, it uSt:d ttl mean coruomtion ('Comrorter' is the epithet applielilo the I:loly Spirit). T heil the .IIeose became , instead, welt-being . Today. in allia ngliages of the world , the word de~igna t e8 nothing more than ratiollal convenience." Wlallimir WeilDe , Lei Abeilles d 'Ari.uee (Pari. d936)). p. 175 ("L' Agonie de I' a rt"). [16a,2] " T he arlist' midUlelteB . . . no longer occupy room!; r ather , they live in studiot. (More a nd Dlore, yo u hear ever y place of habitation called a '9tudio.' 89 if people were mure and more bei:orning arti.llli or students.)" Henri Polli:t;, " L 'Art du commerce," Vendredi. February l 2, 1937 . [16a,3]
Multiplication of traces through the modem administrative appararus. Balzac draws attention to this : "Do your utmost, hapless Frenchwomen, to remain unknown, to weave the very least little romance in the midst of a civilization which takes note, on public squares, of the hour when every hackney cab comes and goes; which COWlts every Jetter and Slamps them twice, at the exaCt time they are posted and at the time they are delivered; which numbers the houses .. . j which ere lo ng will have every acre of land, down to the smallest ho ldings .. • , laid down on the broad sheets of a survey-a giant's task, by command of a giant." Balzac. Modestt Mig1IDn,'· cited in Regis Messac, "Detective NolJt:l" (tt I'injiuenu tk la peruie sO'OI/ifiqun (Paris, 1929), p. 46 1. [16a,4-]
u
E. R. Cumus cites the following passage from Balzac's Petits &urgeois: "'lbe hideous unbridled speculation that lowers, year by year, the height of the ceilings, that fits a whole apartment into the space formerly occupied by a d rawing room and declares war on the garden, will not fail to have an influence on Parisian morals. Soon it will become necessary to live more outside the house than within it." Ellls t Roben Curtius. Baluu: (Bonn, 1923), p. 28. Increasing importance of the streets, for various reasons. [16.4] Perhaps there is a connection becween the shrinking of residential space and the elaborate furnishing of the interior. Regarding the first, Balzac makes some telling obsc.rvatlons: "'Small pictures alone are in demand because large ones can no longer be hung. Soon it will be a fomudable problem to house o ne's library. ... One can nO longer find space for provisions of any son. Hence. o ne buys things that are not calculated to wear wdl. I"n le shirts and the books \von)t last, so there
" Victor Hugo works standing up, ami, since he cannot find a 9u.itable antique to Serve as his desk, be writes on a stack of 8tools anillargc books which i5 cuvered ....itll a C8Q>et . It is 0 11 the Bible. it i9 on the Nuremher g Chronicles, that the poet leauli Il.nd s pread! his Ila per! ' Lo uill Ulh ach. Les Contemporains (Paris. 1833), ~!itcd ill Raymo nd Escllolit'r. Victor Hugo rucoflf e par ceux qui r Ollt vu (Puris . 193 1), p . 352 . (17,1]
Tbe Louis Philippe style: "The belly overspreads everything, even the timepieces." [17,2) There is an apocal)'ptic interior- a complement, as it were, of the bourgeois interior at Dlidcentury. It is to be found with Victor Hugo. H e writes of spiritual·
istic manifestations : "J have been checked for a moment in my miserable hwnan amotlr-jJr0pl'e. by ~ctua1 revelation. coming to throw around my littJc miner's lamp a streak. of IIghtmng and of meteor." [n u.s C07ltnnp/atio1lJ, he writes :
*
listen (o r any sounw in th~ dism.a.l emp'y spaces; Wandering through the shadows, we listen 10 the brea th
'Olal makes the darkncn shudder; And now and then, lost in unfathomable nights, W: sce lit up by mighty lights
TIl(: window of eternity.
-
(Cited in Claudius GrillCl, Vu/or Hugo spin'le
' I'
p, - -.
[17,4]
The relation of the Jugendstil interior to its predecessors comes down to the fact that the bourgeois conceals his alibi in history with a still more remOte ali..bi in natural history (specifically in the reahn of plants). [17.5)
Th:
~tuis, dust covers, sheaths with which the bourgeoi.'i howdlOld of the pre· cedmg century encased its utensils wue so many measures taken to cap~ and
preserve lmees.
[17,6]
On the history of the domestic interior. The residential charnaer of the rooms in the early faaories, though disconcerting and inexpedient, adds this homely touch : that within th~ spaces one can imagine the faaory owner as a quaint figurine in a landscape of machines. c:m:arning not only of his own but of their future greatness. With the dissociation of the proprietor from the workplace, this charnaeristic of factory buildinS! disappears. Capital alienates the employer, too, from his means of production, and the dream of their futuTc: greatness is finished. TIl.is alienation process culminates in the emergence of the private home. (11 ••1) " During Ihe fi n l tlccadc8 of the nineteenth ct"ntury. furnilUre a nd the objects that ~ UI' r()U lltl cd U8 for IIlle {I ud pleasure WCft~ relatively Bimple and d ura!,I.:, anti li e-t;lI nlcd with the lIt!clls IIf lloth tlu~ lower and the upper strahl. This rCHuitecl in I>c o)lll"', attachment, 11 8 they grew up , to th ~ objccts ofthcir l! ulToulltlings . . .. The diffcrcntiation of objects has b roken down this 8ilua lioll i.1l thrt.-e differelll """Yi! . . . _ Firs t . thc , hcer rlUlilitity of \'I!r y $Jlccificall y formed o bj ~t>l makc a 1·lolie ... rd lol tionll l!ip lu "ad! of thcm " !(Ire diffi.:ult . . . . 1'lIi&is expres~ecl ... in lin' l"III ~"wift!'i! ...ulII'h.i nt tha t the ta re of 1.111' IlO usehol.l J.wcOIlICII ct!rcmoniLlI fctillh· is m .... Thi ~ COlu:tU'rcnl lliff,!relltin ti(ll1 has Lhe sa me cfft~ t 1111 consecutive. differ -
clltiatiun . Changel in fllShioll tli8ruJlI d lln ... prooeu of . . . 1Il!lIin!i1atiol1 hetwCt:n subjcct and obj ecl. ... [In the third place. ther e is] the nlUltitude of l!Iylefi l hat crm frn ntHuS when we vicw lile oLjccu that ~ urro und 11&." Georg Simmf"l . Philo, o_ pllie tie l Gelde~ (Lc:ip7.iS. 19(0) . pp. 49 1-494. IQ [17a.2]
On the theory of the trace. To "the Harbor-Ma.o;ter, . .. [as] a son of . .. deputyNepnme for the circumambient seas, ... I was, in common with the other seamen of the port. merely a subject for official writing, 6lling up of fonus with all the artificial superiority of a man of pen and ink to the men who grapple with realities outside the consecrated walls of official buildings. What ghosts we must rove been to him! Mere symbols to juggle with in books and heavy registen, without brains and muscles and perplexities ; something hardly useful and decidedly inIerior."J 05eph Coruad, Die &Jw.ttenlinie (Berlin
w
On the theory of the trace : administration in the eighteenth century. As secretary to the French embassy in Venice, Rousseau had abolished the tax on passports for the French. "As soon as the news got around that I had reformed the passport tax, my only applicants were crowds of pretended Frenchmen who claimed in abominable acttnts to be either from Provence, Picardy. or Burgundy. As I have a fairly good ear, I was not easily fooled , and I doubt whether a single Italian cheated me out of my JequiTl, or a single Frenchmen paid it." Jean:Jacques Rous· seau, fA ConfiSJionJ. ed. Hilsum (Pam <1931». vol. 2, p. l3Z'l [18.2) 8audelaire. in the introduction to hill tranillation of Poe'!; " Philosophy of Furnitu re ," which originaUy a ppeared in October 1852 in Le Magtuin des familkl : " Who among U ll. in hill idle hours, ha, not taken a delicious pleasure in cons tructing Cor rumw lf a model apartment , a drellm b ou~e, a house of dreams?" Cha rlel 8 auddoire, Oellvres COm/Jlele! . ed . Crepel . UiJtoire! g rotesqlles et ! eriellses par P'M ()luria, 193i ), p. 3M. {lS.S]
J [Baudelaire] For it pleases me, all for your sake, to row My own oars here on my own sea, And to soar h~venward by a suan~ avenue, Singing you the unsung praises a rOeath. - Pierre RoruaM, ~Hynme de la Mort," A lAv:yJ tkJ
M aJlln'.f !
" Baudelaire', problem ... must have . .. posed itself in thesc terms: ' How to he a great poet , but neither a Lamartine nor D Hugo nor a Mussel. ' I do not say that tllese words were consciously Ca nnulated, but they must have been latent in Baudelaire's mind ; they even constituted what was the essential Ba udelaire. They were his rauon d 'etat . .. . B a udelai re co ~8 ide red Victor Hugo; and it is not impossible to imagine wha t he thought orrum .... E\'erything that might scandalize. and thereb y instruct and guide a pitileu young observer in the way of his own fulure arl , ... Baudelaire must h ave recorded ill h.is mind , distinguishing the admira tion forced upon him by Hugo's wonderful gifts from the impurities, the imprudences , . . . that is to say, the chances for life and fame that so grelll an artist left behind him to he peaned ." Paul Valery, Introduction (Cha rles Baudelaire, LeJ Fle urJ du mal, with aD introd uction b y Paul Valer y [ Pa ris
Charles Baudelaire, 1855. Photo by Nadar. Mus~e d'Orsay, Paris ; photo copyrigh t O RM N.
T ile lalter is c;m cerned ollly wilh prostitution and, at the elld , evokes memories of the youth of the faUen yo ung women : Oh! Do not _ k 10 know aU Ihat debauchery doe.. To withe r the Ro wen a nd TlI OW theOl down ; III i t ~ wo rkin!!:. it is pre mat u re a t delll.h And will m a ke yo u old de81li te your ei!!:llIttn year,.
Baudelaire- after his enforced sea voyage'--was a wdJ·travded man. 'b vO! "ity on IllIlm! Pity! Wh~n on the corn~r you ~ h ouM knod c against them, Their anSelie racet b. thed in the glow or good reea liM .
[jla,4]
Baudelaire 10 Pou let-Ma lassis, on Jallullry 8, 1860, lifter II. visit from Mer yon: "Aft!'r hll ieft nit'. I wondertcl how it was lhal I . wht) h ave alwaY8 had Ihe mind a nd nerve~ to go lIIud , have never uctually gone mad. In all seriousnClls, I gave heaven a Pharisee's thankll for this: '" Cited in Gu! laVe Geffroy. Charlet Meryo,. (Pam . 1926). p . 128. [j la,S]
we
Olinde I{oclriguell, Poesies sociakl du Qu vriers (Paris. 1841 ). I>p. 20 1, 203. (]1.4] Dalel. Oaucle.lairc'M fl n liclter to Wagner : February 17, 1860. Wagn~r's conceru in Paris: "~ebru ary I and 8, 1860. Paris premiere of Ta nnha u.ser: Man h 13. 1861. When was Daudelairt:'s artide in Lo RevlU europeenne?' (Jl ,51 Baudelaire planned "an enormous work on the peintres des moellrs cpainter . of manners>." CrelJet, in thi8 connection , cites his statement : " lnlagee--nI Ygreat . my I)rimitive passion .") J acqucM Cnipet . "Mieucil baudelairiennel." Mercure de France, 46th year, vol. 262 , no. 894, pp . 53 1- 532 . [J I ,6] '"Baudelaire .. . can ~ till write. in 1852 , in the. preface to Olll>0nt 'li Charuom: 'Art was ther eafter insep arable from morality and utility.' And he speab there of the ' puerile Utopia of the ijchool of art for art i ~ ake . 'fi . .. Nevertheless. hc changes his mind 800n after 1.852 . Tlus conception of social art may perhaps be explained by his youthful relations. Duponl was his friend at the moment when Baudelaire, 'alnm81 fanalically repul)lican under the monarchy,' was meditating a realistic aod communicatory flOCtry." C. L. de Liefd e. Le Sa int.-Simonilme dlm.s lCl poesit! frtlnr;Clue entre 1825 ~ t 1865 (Haarlem. 1921>, p. liS. [Jla, l] Baudelaire soon forgot the February Revolution. ; Telling evidence of tlus fa ct ba8 been IluhLished b y J acque, Cripel , in ".Mieu es baodelairieunes" (Baodelairean Morsels> (Mercure de F'rance. vol. 262, no. 894, I)' 525), in the form of a review of tbe Hu toire de NeuiUy et de Ie. chateaux, by the abbe BeUanger, a r eview which Baudelaire probably compo&ed at the request of his friend the lawyer An celle, and wbich a t the lime pres umably apl>cared in the preu. Tbere Baudelaire llpeab of the bi&tory ofthe place " from Roman times 10 the terriLle days of February, when the chi teau was the theater lIocl 'puil of the most ignoble passion!!. of orgy and destruction:' [Jla,2] Nada r de8crilw, thl" outfit worn by Baudelaire. who is encountered ill the viciuit y of I.il'l residence (or 1843-1845), the Hotel Pimodnn . "' Black tro llsen .Irawn well ahove his polished booU!; a blue workman 's blouse,sliff ill its new rulds; hill hlallk h air. naturaUy curl y, WOril long-his only t oiffure; bright linen , stric:tl y wilhout starch ; II raint moustache onder hi ~ !lose and a bil of beard 0 11 his chill ; ruse-colorei:1 gloves. Iluite lIew.. . . Thus arrayed a nd ha lless, Baudelaire walkell ahout his (1lUlrlier of tlw cily al 1111 oneven Ilace, both nervous and languill. like a cat . chlK'ling t'tlC' h stone of I_he lIavemenl as if he had tel IIvoid "rushing an egg. " Ciled in Firmin Maillard. La Citfi cles in lellect-m:u (Paris ( 1 905~), p . 362 . [j la.3]
f rom t h e (eighth ~ sec:tion of Baudelaire's "'S.lon de 1859." Tbere one finds. apropus of Mcr yon , Ihiil phrase: " the profound and cumplex charm of a capital city which has grown old and worn in lite glories and tribulations of life." A Little furth er on : " I have rarely 8een the nat ural soleffilut y of an immense city more poeticaUy reproduced . Those maj estic acc umulations of stolle i those ! pires 'whose finge r8 point to heaven '; those obelisk, of industry, JlI>c",ring forth their conglomerationl of smoke against tbe firmament; those prodigiel of scaffolding ' round buildings under rep llir, applying their openwork architCi;ture, so paradoxically beautiful, upon ardutceture ', solid body ; that tunlultuou! sk y, ch arged with a nger and spite; those limitleu perlpcctives, unly incr eased by the tbought of aU the dfllmll they contain ; -he forgot not one of the complex elements which go to make up the painful and glorionl decor of civilization . . . . Bill a cruel demon hal touched M. Meryon'8 brttin . . . . And from that moment we have never cellsed waiting anxiously for somc('onsoLing new!! or this ijillgular naval officer who in ODe short da y turned into a mighty a rtist , and who bade fareweD to the ocean's solemn adventures in order to p aint the gloomy majeuy of this moat disquieting of capitllls. " I" Cited in GUlitave Geffroy, Char fel lUeryon (Paris, 1926), pp. 125-126. (]2,1] The editor Deli.tre conceived a plan to puhlish an alhum of Meryon 's etchinge with text by B audelaire. The plan feU tllrough ; but it had already been ruined for Baudelaire when Mer yon demanded, in8tead of a text 8uited to the poet, a pedantic explication of the p ictu red olonumcn18. Baudelaire complains of rbe matter in his letter of Februar y J 6, 1860. to Poulet-Malassil. [J2,2] !\ter yo n placeel th t:se. lines under his etchin!!: Le Pont-Nevf: H ",1't':
liu the exacllikeneu
or th e I. te Pun t-N",ur. AU newly refurbi~I ..:u Per rt.'Cl':llt oruinIlIlC"'.
o ICllnlO!d doctur•• S killrll' .u rgllo ll~.
Wh y 1101 do for liS
" '''at'. hel'lI donI' ror thi. , tone bridge? According to Geffroy-who evidentl y ta ke& them from a llot her \'er8ion of the etching-the 11161 two Lines are: "Wililell why I't!lI0va tj on~ f H ave been rorced 00 this stOne bridge." Gusla ve Geffrny. ChorieJ Aferyon (Paris. 1926) , p . 59. [J2,3]
executed thus: the p late is set upright on an easel, the etching DeclUe is held at arm's length (like a rapier), and the hand moves slowly from top to bollom." R. Castindli , " Cha rles 1\1er yolI ," lntroduction to Charles Meryon , Eaux-fortel $ lIr P(lri.!, p . iii . [J2a,2J Mervoll p roduced his twellty-two etchillgs of Paris between 1852 and 1854. . [j2.,3] When did the "Puris article" ((Irticle de Paris ) first appear?
[j2.,4]
What Baudelaire says about a drawing by Daumier on the subject of cholera could also apply to cenain engravings by Meryon: "True to its ironic custom in cimcs of great calamity and political upheaval, the sky of Paris is superhi it is quite white and incandescent with heat." Charles Bauddaire, It; Dmins de Daumier (Paris <1924», p. 13. <Seej52a,4.) 0 Dust, Boredom 0 (J2a,SJ "The splenetic cupola of the sky" -a phrase from Charles Baudelaire, Le Spken de Puri" , cd. Simon (Paris), p. 8 ("Chacun sa chimere"). II [J2a.6J
The funt-Neuf. Etching by Charles Meryon, 1853-1854. SeeJ2,3.
Bizarre features on plates by 1\1eryon . " The Rue d es Chantres": squ arely in the foreground , aflilled at eye-levd on the wall of what would seem to be a nearly windowless house. is a poster bearing the words " Sea Baths." <See Geffroy, CharIe! Meryon , p. 144.) - ''1'he CoUege Henry IV," about which Geffroy writes :"All around t.he school , the gardens, and neighboring houses, the space is empty. and suddenly Meryon hegins to fill it with a landscape of mountain and sea , replacing the ocean of Paris. The sails and masts of a ship a ppear, sonle flock s of sea birds are taking ",
"The pltilosophica1 and Ilterary Catholicism .. . of Baudelaire had need of an inter mediate position .. . where it could take up its abode between God and the Devil. Tbe tit1e Le5 Limbel (Limbo> marked trus geographic determination of Baudelaire's p~ms, making it possible to understand better the order Baudelaire wanted to estaLlish among them, ""ruch is the order of a journey-more exactly, a fourth journey after Dante's three journeys in Inferno. PltrgatoriQ. and ParadUo. The poet of Florence lived 011 in the p oet of Paris." Albert Thibaudet, Hutoire de la litterClture fram;aue de 1789 ii no" jour$ (Paris (1936)), p. 325. 12 [J3,1] On the allegorical element. " Dickens . . . mentions, among the coffee shops into which he crept ill those wretched days , one in St. Martin 's Lane. ' of which I only recollect that it stood near the church , and that in the door there was an oval glass plate with COFfE~: ROOM painted on it, addressed towards the 8treet. If I ever lind myself in a very diHerent kind of coffee room now, but where there is such an inscription on glass , and read it backwards 011 the wrong side, MOOR EEFfOC (as I oft en u sed to do thell in a dismal r everie), a shock goes t1lrougb my Llood .' That wild word , ' 1\1oor Eeffoc, ' is the motto of all effective reallsm." G. K. Chesterton, Dick e"" (series entit1ed Vie tie" hom me" illmtre", no . 9), trans . from the EIIgl.ish by Laurent and Martin-Dnpont (Paris, 1927), p. 32 ,13 [J3 ,2] Dicken s and stenography : " He describes how, after he had learnt the whole- exact alphabet , ' there then appeared a procession of new horrors, called arbitrary r haracters- thc mOllt d eSI)()tic characters I have ever klloWII ; who insisted, for instance. that a t.hing like the beginning of a cobweb meant "exllCctation ," and that II !)tll-and-illk skyrocket siood for "disadvantageous.'" He concludes, ' It was alnlost heartbreaking.' But it is significant that somebody else, a colleague of his,
(:onduded , ' There never Will s uch a IIhllrthand writer. ,.. C. K. C lu:~ tcrtoll . Dick . en.f (81·rir.1I elltitlf'd llie des homme. illu.f.re.f, no. 9), trall8. Laurent IIlI d Martin OUl'o)nl ( I~rili. 1927). flP . 40-41." (J3,3)
The title originally planned ror Spleen de Pn ru was Le Promeneur solitaire. For Le Fle urs till mulit WPII Le, l..im!Je.nUmbo> . [J4, I)
Valery (Int rlliludio nt v Let f leur. Ju mul [Paris, 1926J , fl . bination of "eternity and intimacy" in Baudelaire. · ~
From "Conse.i1s aux j l~ un ell litter ateu rs": " If olle is willing to Ih't' in stu bborn contemplation of lomorrow's work , Ilaily penevera nce wi U serve inspiratiQIl .'" Charles Ba ud t"laire, L'A rt romantiqrre. r.d . Haehelte-, vol. 3 (Pari,), p . 286. ]j4,2]
I(XV)
t; pl·akij of a com. [J3 ,4)
From the III·tide Ly Barlley J 'AureviUy in Article. ju.! ficati/t IHm r C/mrk fl BaudeWire, autellr de. "'leur. J lt mat(Paris, 1857), a booklet of thirt y-tllree pages, with other contributions IIy Du lamon , Asselineau , and Thlerry. which was p rinted at Baudelaire's expen8C fo r the trial: I~ '1'he lmet. terrifyin5 and terr ified, wanted U B 10 inhale the aLomirUltion of th at dread basket thai he carries, pale canClthoNl. un his head bristlin5 with hurror. , , . His talellt ... is itself a fl ower of evil culti vated in the hothouses of Decadence.... There is something of Dante in the author of i.es Fleurs du mal, but it i. the Dallte of ao elKlc h in dttline, a n atheist and m(l{lernist Dante. a Dallle come after Voltaire ." Cited in W. T, Bantly, BUlldelaire Judged by HilJ Contemporuries (New York <1933», pp. 167-168 (collection of lextl in Frendn . [J3" 1] Ga utier's note 0 11 Bauddaire ill Le" Poole:Jfrml(;uilJ : R ecueil des ch"ft -d 'oe rwre de h, l~lJie frallt;(lue , cd . Eugene Crepet (Paris. 1862) , vol. 4, Lea ConlemporuinJ: " We ncvcl' rea d Le~ Fle rtr, Ju mal . .. without thinking involunt arily Iof that tale by Haw thorne (entitled " RaJlpaccini's Daughter"> . . . . His muse rellcmlllea the doctor' s d aughter whom no poi SOli can h arm, but whose pallill and anemic complexion betrays the influence ofthe milieu ahe inhabits," Cited in W. T. Band y. Burmewire Judged by iii, Co nfemporarie. (New York), p. 174. <See J29a.3), 1J3a.2) Main themes of Poe', aest hetic. acco rding to Valery: philosophy of composition, theory of the a rtifidal, theory of modernity. theory or the strange and exceptionaL
I.
Baudelaire confeilSt"s to h aving had , " in childhood , the good fortUlle--(lr the misfortune---of reading only book. for ad ul ts." Charles Baudelaire, L 'Art roman_ tiquf! (Paris), p . 298 ("' Dramel et roman Ahonnetes" ). I· [j4,3] On Heine: "~ hi8) works are corrupted by ma terialistic sentimentality." Baude-. laire, L 'A rt ronrantiqlte , p . 303 ( .... t. ' Ecole paj'ellllc").:!11 [j4.4)
A motif that wa ndered from Spleen de Pnru to " L'Ecole paienne": " Why don ' t the poor wear gloves when they beg? They would make a fortune." Baudelaire, L 'Art. romanlique (Paril), I). 309, ~1 [j4.5) "The time is not far off when it will be undeutood tha t every lite.rature that refuses 10 walk hand in hand with science a nd philosophy ill a homicidal and suicidal literature." Baudelaire, L'A rt ronrllnlUIUe (Pari8), p . 309 (concluding sentellce of uL' Ecole pa·ienne").!t [J4,6] Baudelaire 0 11 the child raired in the company of the Pagan School: "His sow. conslan tl y excited and unlppea.soo . goes abo ut the world . the busy, toiling world ; it goes, I say. like a prostitute, cr ying: Plastique! PIOlJtique! The 1)la8tic-lhll frightful word give. me goose Reih ." Ba udelaire. L 'Art romantique (Paris). p . 307. u Compar e J 22a.2. fJ4.7]
[J3 , ~]
" Thus. Baudelaire's problem might have---indeeJ , must have---posl!(l itself in thesl' lerms: ' How to he a great poct , bUI neither a Lamartine nor a Hugo nor a Mllnet ,' I do not sa y tha t these words were cOllsciously formulated , hUI they must ha ve been latent i.n Ba udelaire's nuncl: tlley even constituted what was the eueu tial Ba udela ire. They were bis r(luon d 'ewt. In the domain of f' relltioll , which il also !.lit' Ilomain 'If pride. the Ilted to come Oll t and he distinci is I'art of life i t ~elf. " Paul Valer y, Introduction to Baudelaire, LelJ Fleurt d" mol (l'arill, 1928), p. 1(. 11
[J3,,4] Rt'gil> MeSSl1l' ( d A! " Oetecli ve No vel" et I'influence (Ie La I,ensee scienlifi'lrte [ Paris. 1929 1,> p . ,121) pllinls 10 the i nflu en c~ of thl' " Two Crepusculell" <" Le Cr cJ>uscule till 1II1I.Ii n·' amI ,.tt:. Crcpuflcule Ilu soir," in Les "'leurlJ rill nmb, fi rsl I'uhlishecl Febr ua ry I . 1.852. in 1..0 Setlluine dl elilra le. on certain Ilas~agc8 in PUllson Ilu Terrai!'11 Drllln f!I de (~ri•• which begall to appear. in instaUmell 18. ill 1857. [J3a,5J
A passage from the portrait ofViClor Hugo in which Baudelaire, like an engravu who sketches his own image in a remarque, has portrayed himself in a subordinate clause: "[f he painu the sea, no JeQJcajJe will equal his. The ships which furrow iu surface or which CUt through its foam will have, more than those of any other painter, the appearance of fierce combatanu, the character of will and of animality which mysteriously emerges from a gr:ometric and mechanica1 apparatus of wood, iron, ropes, and canvas; a monstTOus animal created by man to which the wind and the waves add the beauty of movement.'"' Baudelaire, £.:Arl rmnanh"qut (Paris), p. 32 1 ("Victor Hugo'V ' fJ4,8] A plll'ase apropos of Auguste Barhier : ';111t' natural indolence of IhUlle who J epend on ins pira tion ." Buudclaire. 1.,:.1 rt. rommuique(Pari8), p . 335 .~'; [J401. l )
Baudelaire describe.-; the ~try of the lyric poet-in the essay on Banville-in a way that. point for point, brings intO view the exact opposite of his own POCD"}' : "The word 'apotheosis' is one of those that unfailingly appear under the pen of
the poet when he has to describe ... a mingling of glory and light. And if the lyric. poet has occasion to speak of hinl5df, he will not depict himself bent over a table•... \YTeStling with intractable phrases, . .. any more than he will show himself in a poor, wretched, or disorderly room; nor. if he wishes to appear dead, will he show himself rotting beneath a linen shroud in a wooden casket. That \\"Quld be lying." Baudelaire. J.:Art romanHqu~ (Paris), pp. 370-371.:16 (J4a.2J
" Mada me 80varr. in what ill m('lllt forceful, mon ambitious. and abo most coutem· plative in he r na tu re. bas remained a mlin . J U4 t all Palla. At he na 8 pran~ full y a nlloo from Ihe bead afZeus,.u tbis strangeamlrogYllou8crt'li ture hal! kepi all the It tlru ~) ti o n of a virile soul ill It clJ umliug feminine bUlly." Furthe r alo ng. on Flaubcrt : "'All inlellcclll(Ji wo men wiIJ be grateful 10 him for ha ving raised the fe male to 10 higll a level .. . a nd for having mafle he r share in that comhinatioll ()f calc ula tion and reverie .... hich constitutes the perfel;t beiUIll·" Baulldaire, L'Arr
In his I!ssay Of) Banville. Ba udelaire mentio ns mytlltllogy together with allrgor y, uno the n eontillUCil: " Mytholngy is a ~Iictio n liry of living hie rog.lyphies." Ba udelaire, l. 'Ar, romn fltique ( PUrill). p . 370.r. (J4a.3)
r,mwllt;(/Ue., )I)) . 4 15, 419. 11
Conjunction of the modem and the demonic: "Mode.m poetry is related at one and the same time to painting, music. sculprure, decorative art, satiric philosophy. and the analytic spirit . .. . Some could perhaps see in this symptoms of depravity of taste. But that is a question which I do not wish to discuss hue." Nevertheless, a page later, after a reference to Beethoven, Marurin, Byron, and Poe, one reads: "I mean that modem art has an essentially demoniacal tendency. And it seons that this satan.ic side of man ... increases every day, as if the devil, like one who fattens geese, enjoyed enlarging it by artificial means, patiently force-feeding the human race in his poultry yard in order to prepare himself a more succulent dish." Bauddaire, L'Arl romantiqut (Paris), pp. 373-374.'· The concept of the demonic comes into play where. the concept of modernity cOllverges with Catholicism. [J4a,4] Regarding Leconte de Lisle: "My natura] predile.ction for Rome prevents me from fe.ding alllhe e.njoymem that I should in the reading of his Greek poems." Baudclaire, L'Art romantique (Paris), pp. 389-390." Chthonic view of the. world. Catholicism. [J4a,5] It is very important that the modem, with Baudelaire, appear not only as the sigllat~ of an epoch but as an energy by which this epoch immediatdy trans· forms and appropriales antiquity. Among all the relations into which modernity ente.rs, its relation to antiquity is critical. Thus, Baudelaire sees confirmed in Hugo "the. fatality which led him .. . partially to transfonn ancient ode and ancient tragedy into the poems and dramas that we know." Baudelaire, L'Art r(}mall /ique (Paris), p. 401 ("us MiJirahlu "j.3lI This is also, for Baudelaire, the fu nction of Wagner. [J5. 11 T ill' gcs turl! wilh wilic h the a ngel cllH ~tises tile mi!lcreanl : " Is it 1101 uliefu l for the poet . the I'hil(lstll'hcr. to 'Ilk", egois tic lI ul'Jlilll!HH by the hair from time to time li nd IUI Y to ii , whil.. r ubhing il8 now ill 1,lotHl and dUllg: 'See your handi work a nd swu Llow i l ' ~" Cha rlell Ba udelain: . L ~ rl roman tique (Paris). p. ,&06 (';tn MillhuMes").JI [JS.2J "Tlw Church •... t haI Plla rmae y whe r'" Il l.! o ne has tilt' righlto , lumbe r !" lair;,:, L 'A r' rOm(lntiqlle ( Puri ~) . p . " 20 ("Mu daIll6 lJOll(" .,."),J.f
B a ud e~
[J5,3}
US,4]
" Hyste ria!' Wh y couldn' t this phY8ioiogicai my6ler-y be made the 811m and B uh~ ' Ia~ ce of a lite ra ry work- this myw ter-y which the Academie de Medecine b as not yet wolved a nd which , manifesting itself in women by the lIensation of a lump in the throat lhal seems to rise .. .• s howl itseU in excitable me n " y el'er y kind o r impotence al weU as by II te nde nc y towa rd e ve r y kino of e xct!a ," Ba udelaire, L 'A rt rom(Wfiqlw (Ps ru), p . 418 ("!tf(l(lame Bovary"),l-1 US,S) From " Pierre Dupont": " Whatever the party to whic h unl! belongs •. , . it i. impos. lible not t('l he 1I10\'ed by the l ight of that sickl y thronA' breathing the dU8t of t be .... orksilops, ... sleeping among vernlin , . , -lhal sighing IIlId languishing thrung , .. which looks lo ng Slid sadl y at the lI un8hine a nd shadows of the grtat parb ." Baudelaire. L'An. roma ntique (Pari.). pp. 1 98- 199 .~ USa, ! ) From " Pierre Dupont": " By exclUlling morality, a ud oft en e ven punion , the puerUe Utopia of the school of orr/or art; Ja ke was ine vitably ste rile ... . When ther e IIprear ed a poet, aw kward at times, but IIlmost always great , who proclaimed i.o impassio ned language the sacredness of Ihe Revolution of 1830 lind sang of the destitutio n of Engla nd a nd Irela nd , d espite hill defecti ve r hymell, despite his pleooasms , ... the qu t:5tio n was seltJed . a nd art was the reafte r insepa ra ble from mor alily a nd utilit y. " 8audelaire, CArt roma fltiq ue (Parill), p. 193.ltI The pasllage refe rs to RDrbier. [J5a,2) '"The optimism of Dupont. hill unlimited tru. l in the ua tural goodnelis of man , his faoll tical love of lla lUrt' constitute the greatest share of hiij tale nt ." Baudelaire, t ~rt roma rtriqllc (paris). p . 20 1 .)~ [J5a.3) '" was nOI a t aU I Ur)ri$ed to oml , . . in 1(ulIIlliimer. I.o he ng rin , ulIll The "" yi,'Il Dutclt"wn. an excellc nt method or l'onslrueti un , 8 spirit of urrle r a nd divi ~ iOJl Ihal recalls lhe architecture of ancient tragelliclI ." 8 s tul ...htire , l, 'A r' rnma ntiqlle (Paris), )I. 225 (" Richard Wagne r eI T(lnnhii UJc r" ) ..JIl [J5a,4)
",r, in IuscllOice of s ubj ects II'IIJ in
his JrAmutic method , Wagne r ro:!~ I'mbI 1!8 antiquit y, h y the pas"ionule ene rgy of hiil ex prc ~ ion he i!l tod ay t he truelit rep resen la tive. of modern II Ut U ~." Baudelaire, t 'Ar, romffntique ( Parill) . 1" 250. oW USa,S)
Baudelaire in " L'Art philOl!uphique," an essay coneerm:d mainly with Alfred Rethel: " Here twer ything-placr., decor. furnU.hingIJ, aecelllUriel (see Bogarth , fur cxample)---everything is allegory, allusion. hieroglyph, reb us." Baudelaire. L 'Art rOIlIll,,'u/ue, (1 . 131 ..... Ther e followB a reference to Micllelct's interpretation of Uiirer'I M eloncho/io'_ USa,6) Va.riant of the pauage on Meryun cited b y Geffroy, in " Peultrel et aqua-fortiste!l" ( I B62): " Just the other da y II yo ung American artist , M. Whistler, witlshowing ... Q SCI of etchings .. . r eprellenting the hanks of the Thome.; wonderful tangles of riggiug, ya rdarms and rope; farru.gos of fog, furna ces, and corkSert::W8 of smoke; the profound aDd intricate poeu 'y of a vast capital .... M. Meryon , the true type of the CODsumnlJ:l.le etcher, could nut neglect the call .... In the pungency. fine"e, lind sureness of his drawing. 1\1.. M.er yon recalls all tbat wa. best in thcold elcher!!. We have rarely seen the natural sole-mnil)' of a great capital more poetically d &picted . T hose. majestic accwnulations of stone; those 'apirea whose finge rs point to heavell': those oheliilk. of industry, spewing forth their conglomerations of smoke agaim!t t.he nnnitment i tllose I)rodigies of scaffolding ' round buiJdings under .repair, applying their opeowork architecture. of sucb psradorica l and arachnean hea ut y, upon arcmtecture's solid bod y; tbal foggy sky, ch arged with anger and spite; those Iimitle81 per spectives, only increased by the thought of the dramas they contain-he forgot not one of the complex elemenu which go to make up the painful and g1orioue decor of civiliution ." Baudelaire. L:Art rortl(Jnlique (Paris), pp . 1l 9- 12 1. ~ 1 (J6,1] On Gu}'ll: " The festival.! of the Bairam , ... in the mid. t of which , like a pale SUD , call be discerned the endlees eDnui of tile lale sultan," Biludelairt, L:Arr romara-tique(Pa ris)_ p. 83.~ []6,2] On C uys: -'Wherever those dt:e p , impt:luous desire!, war. love, and gaming, are in full llood , like Orinocos of the human heart ...• our observer is always punctually on tilt: spol." Bauddaire. l.'Art rom(lntique (Pari.), (I . 87 ."" 116.3] Baudelaire as antipode of Rousseau, in the maxim from his essay o n Guys: "For no sooner do we take leave of the domain of needs and necessities to enter that of pleasures and luxury than we see that nature can counsel nothing b ut crime. It is this infallible Mother Nature who has outed parricide and caruubalism." Baudelaire, L'Arr romantiqut (Paris), p. 100:" (J6,4]
"Very difficull to note d own in shonhand"-this. from the essay on Guys, is Baudelaire's appreciation, obviously very modem, o f the movement of carriages. Baudelaire, L'Arl romanliqut (Paris), p. 113." []6,5] ClOSing ilenlences of the Gu)'s ('ssay : "'He has &one ever yw her t' in quest of the e phe m~' rDI. the- fl eetillg form s of l:.eAlity in the life uf our day, the cbar acteristic troilS uf ""hal , with tile reader ', permiuioD , we have called ' modernity. ' Orten bizarr~. viulent . excessive. LUi alwaYI full of poetry. he haa succeeded , in his
drawings, ill IliatiUing the biuer or head y Davor of the wi.ne of Life." Baudelaire. L'Art roman,ique(Pa ria), II . '114.~ (J6a, J]
The figure of the " modem" and that o f "allegory" must be brought into relation with each other: "\\be unto him who seeks in antiquity anything other than pure art, logic, and genera1 method! By plunging too deeply into the past, . , . he renounces the ... privileges provided by circumstances; for ahnost all o ur originality comes from the stamp that b"me imprints upon our feelings uen.sab"on.o." Baudelaire, L'Arl romanlique (Paris), p. 72 ("I.e Pcintre de la vie modeme").4T But the privilege of which Baudelaire speaks also comes intO force, in a mediated way, vis-a.-vis antiquity : the stamp of time that imprints itself on antiquity presses OUl o rit the allegorical configuration. (J6a,2] Coocernillg'''Spleen el ideal," these reHection. from the GUYI essay : " Modernity is the transitory, the fugitive. the contingent ; it is one half of a rt , the other half being the eternal a ud immutable.. , U any particular modernit)' is to be worth y of becoming a ntiquity, one must extract from it the myneriou8 beauty that human life involuntarily gives it. It is to this task tbat MODl>icur G. particularlyaddrellle8 himself. " Baudelaire. L 'Art romanlique (Pari!), p. 70. In a nother place (p . 74), he speaks of " this k se"dary translation of external life. ".s (J6a.3) Motifs of the I}()t!ms in the tbeoretical prose. "l..e Coucher du 80leil romaDtique"
In " L'OeuYre ella vie d ' Eugelle DeIRc roix " : '''file whole visilile univer~e ie bUI a Blorehouu : of imllgeJI and l igne:' Ba utldaire. L 'A r, romnntillue. p . 13.5l [j7,3]
j.
From tbe Guye ellsay: " Beaut y ill made up of an ctl'l'na l, inva l'i able d ement .. . and of a relative , circumsta ntial element, which will lw. .. . the age--it6 fnll biuns, illl morl/h, iu c:motions. Without Ihis lIecond d emeul . which might be Ilcseribed as the amu ~ ill g , enticing, appetizing icing on tile divine cloIke, the fint elt:menl would be beyond our powers of digelition . ,. Baudelaire. L 'A rt roma ntique, pp . 54-55.r.:.
1J7.4]
or thl' delive ry wRll lruly striking." Jule;! LeYaUoi8, Milieu de 5iec.k : IIlemoire. d 'l.in critiq'le (l'llris <1 895», (lp. 93-94. (J1a.3j "The ramous phrue, ' I ""ho am the SUIl of a priest' ; the glee he was said tn fLoel in (.uting lIulll, when be "" ould imagine he "" as munching the brains of small children ; the story of the glu ier who , 01 hill rll'fluellt , climhcd six flighl ,; of slairs under a heavy load of wimlowpanes in oPll refllive s ummer heal. onl y to be told he was not needed-all JUJl t 110 man y insanitiea , li nd probabl y filisehoods, which he delighted in amu siug." Julel l...evalloi•• Milieu de 5iecle: IIlemoire5 d 'un critique (Paris),
pp . 94-95. On nouveaule: " Ni&ht! you ' d plellsc me more witil(lUllbese sta rs I whlcll spea k. language I know all too well ." Fleurs (dll, mol>. ed . I>IoIYOI, p . 139 ("Obsellliion ") ..w
1J7.5] The subsequent appearance of the Bower inJugendstil is oot without significance for the title La Flerm du mal. This work spans the arch that reaches from the ttudium uiku of the Romans 10 Jugendstil. 1J1.6J
It would be imponant to determine Poe's relation to Latinity. Baudelaire's interest in the technique of composition could have led him- in the end-as surely to Latin culture as his interest in the artificiaJ led him to Anglo-Saxon culture. \\brking through Poe, this latter area of culture also conditioru-al the outset'Baudelaire's theory of composition. Hence, it becomes more urgent to ask whether this doctriru: does not, in the end , bear a Latin stamp. [J7,1J Th e Le&bioru- allainting by Courbet.
1J7.8]
Nature, according to Baudelaire, knows this one luxury: crime. Thus the sig· nificance of the artificial. Perhaps ....'C may draw on this thought for the interpreta· tion of the idea that children stand nearest to original sin. Is it because, exuberant by narure, they cannot get out of harm's way? At bottom, Baudelaire is thinking of parricide. (Compare L'Art romantique [Paris], p. l OO.)U [J7a,l J The key to the emancipation from antiquity- which (see in the Guys essay, Dlrl romantique. p. 72)5<1 can furnish only the canon of composition-is for Baudelaire a11egorese. [J 7a,2J Baudelaire's manlier of reciting. lie gal hered hilt fri \:! nd j--Au tollio Walrip()n , Gabriel Oanlru~e. Mala88is , Od vu u-" in II modelll cafe on the Rue Dauphine . ... The lloel began b y ordenlll; punch : then . wilen he saw us aU d islKlsed toward benevolence , ..• he would recile to us ill a " oiel' at once mincing, lIofl , HU ly, oily, Rnd yet mordant , some enormity or othl'r- "Le Vin de l' IIII1'II18ill" (The Murden: r 's Will e ) or " Une Cha rugn r."
(J7a,4j
A remarkable prOllo\weernenl Ly Baudelaire on Gautier (cited in JuJeli Le vallois, Milieu de 5iecl.e: IItemo irer d 'lIn critique [Paris] , p . 97). It is recorded by Charle8 lie l..ovelljoul. " Un Oernier Ch apitre de "histoire dl!l oeuvres de BalJlac," in L'Echo del theatres of August 25 . 1846, as foUows: " Fat, Ja ~, sluws h , he has no ideas, and call ollly string words together as the Osage strings bead. fur . necklaee."<See J 36a. l. > (J7a,5J Highly significanl letter from Baudelaire to TOllu enel: " Monday, Januury 21, 1856. My dear Tousselle), I really wa nl to thank you for yo ur gift. I didn ' t know the value of your book- I a dmit it simply and baldly.... For a long time I ' ve been rf.'jecting alnlOst all books with a feelin g of disgust . II 's been a long time, too, since I've read anything 80 a b&olmely illltruc ti ve and anllu ing. The chapter on the falcon and the bird8 thai hunl on nlan 's behalf is a musterpiece in itself. I There are exp reslliolls in your book thut r ecall those of the great masters and which a re c ri r.~ of lruth-expressionll whose lOlle i8 irresistibly philosophical, lIuch al. ' Every animal is a s phinx : and . with regard til analogy, ' Whal repolle the mind find s in gende Iluietude. sheltered by 80 fertile and so simple a doctrine. for which none of God's works is a mYl te:ry!' .. . What ill beyond d oubt il thai you are II poet . (' ve been saying for a "ery long time thai the poet is supremely intelligent . .. and that imagination is the mosl , t:.iellfijic of racultie • • (or it alone Clin undentand the utliverJaillllotogy, or wha t a mystic religion caUII correspondence. But when [ try to Pllblish such slateulentll, (' m told I'm mad . ... What is absolutely certain is that I have a philosophical Cllst o( mind tbat allowlI me 10 see clearly what ie true, eV1:'1I in zoology, although I' m neither a huol.!;man nor a naturalist. . . , One idea hlls-been IIppe rnlolit in my IhoughlS since l sta rt t:d reading your book- and this is that you ' re a true intelligell(;c which has walltlcred into a secl. All thillgs considered . wha t do yo u owe to Fourier? Nothing, or " er y tittle. Wilhout Fourier you would ~ lill il e what yo u are. RatiOlulI met! didn ' t fl, wail Fourier 's Il rrh'al 011 earth to realize that nature is a lunSl/tlge. all allegory, a mold , all emoou ing, if yo n like . . . . Your Look a rou:!lC. in me 101 grellt man y (iorni allt though ts-a nd where originul .. it! is CQncerned , as weU Ila .. . Jorm molded 011 a n idea. I"'e oft en thought Ihat noxious, disgusting anima ls wert:. IJerbaps. merel y tllC t:o ming to life ill bodily form uf Illan 'II euil thought ... . . . Thus, the whole of n O lll N! participates in uriginal sin . I Don ' t hold my llOldlleu 111111 IItraightforwardlleu IIgainsl me, hut- hdieve
loire. '- 'But your name is BCludeioire,' I replied , ' not Bodela;re. '- ' Badeillire, lJaudcinire by corruption . It 's the u, me thing.'-' Nol at all ,' I say. ' Your lIanle comes from baud (merry), baudimenl (merril y), &'ebflUdir ( 10 make merry). You a re kiml allli cht:erful. ' - 'No, no, I um ",;cked lind sad .· .. Louis Thomas, Curio!;IeS sur Ulmdelaire (Pa ris, 1912). pp . 23-24 . (J8a,1I Jul!'s Janin published an a rticle in 1865. in L 'lndependonce beige. reproaching UeLne ror his melancholy; Baudelaire drafted a letter ill response. " Oaudeluire lIIailltains that melancholy i.l! the source of all sincere 1)Ot:try." Lows Thomas , Curiosi,es sur 8fllldelaire (Paris. 19 12). p. 17. (J8a.2] On a visit to an Acade mician ,Sf! Baudelaire refers 10 Le& FLeurs du bien that appeared in 1858 and claims the name of the author- Henry (probably Henri) Bordeau):-as his own pseudonym . See L. Thomas, Curiosites s ur Baudelaire (Paris, 191 2). p. 43. (J8a,3)
';011 the n iSaint-Louis, Baudelaire felt at borne every""hertl; he wall as perfectly at his case in the alreet or on the quays all he would have been in bis own room. To KO into the island was in 110 way to quil his domain . Thus, one met him in slippers , bareheaded , and dressed in the tunic that ser ved as his work clothes .... Louil Thomas, Curi()sitessur Balldelaire (Paris, 1912), p. 27. [J8a,4) 0 111
" ' When I'm lIuerly u/()ne,' he wrote in 1864, 'I'll seek oul a religion ('Fabetall or Japallesc), ror I despise the Koran too much , and on my deathbed I' U forf!wear thaI la8t rdigion 10 show beyond doubt my disgust ""ith universal stupidity. '''59 Louis Thomas, CuriQsi' e& sur Baudelaire (paris, 19 12), pp . 57-58. (J8a,5)
Theophile Gautier, 1854- 1855. Photo by Nadar. MUS« d'Orsay, Paris; phQ[o copyright 0 RM N. SeeJ7a,5.
ti. at I am yo ur devoted ... Ch . Baudelaire. ,,:;; Henri Cordier, Notuw.fUr Baudelaire (Puris, 1900), pp . 5-7. The nliddle section of the leiter IJOlemicizes againlt Tousscnd 's faith in progress and his dellunciation of de Maistre. [JSI "Origin of the name Baudelaire. n cre is ""hat M. Georges Barral hal written on this subject ill the La R eVile des wnosites revolution"aires : Baudelaire explained till! ct)'mology of his name, which . he said , ca me not from bel or berm but from bfllld or bald. ' My 118me il something tcrrible,' he declared . ' As a matter of fa ci. the blldelaire was a saber with a short . broad bl ade and a convex cutting edge. hooked at the tip .... It was introduced into France after t,he Crusades alld used ill Paris until Brouml 1560 for e):eciltillg criminals. Some years agll, in 1861 , during e):cuvu ti o ll ~ carried oul lIeur the Punt-au-Change. they r~ove red the bodeh,ire used hy the uttlltioncr al the Grund Chittdet in tile twelfth ct!ntllry. It was deposih'fl in Ille MUdce de Cluny. Go and ha ve a ItHl k . It is frightening 10 see. I sluilider to think how the profil e of my face a pproximatl"f! the profile of this bade-
Baudelaire's production is masterly and assured from the beginning.
[J9, I)
Dates. FLeurs du mal: 1857, 1861 . 1866. Poe: 1809-1849. 8audeJaire's discovery of Poe: arou nd the end or 1846. (j9,2) Renl Y de Gourmont has drawn a paraUei belween Athalie'! dream and "w Mi tamorphoses du vampire"; Fontainas has endeavored 10 do likewise with Hugo's " Fan tomes" (in Les Orienudes) and "Lea Petite1l Vieillet:' Hugo: " lJow many maidens fair, alas! I' ve seen fad e and die . ... One form , abo\'c aU . .. ....., U9,3} Laforgu e on Baudelaire: " After all the liberties of Romanticislll , he was the first to diso;:over theee rough comparisons wllicll sudlleni y, in the midst of a harmo nious lH'riod, calise him to Imtllis fout in his "late: ob,·iou8. e):lIggerated comparisons which seem al timcs llownright America n: lliscollcerting purplish fla sh and dazzle: ' Nigl.. was thickening ... like a partition!' (Other en mples aholllld .)
j..
mching of r umhling glacier.; her neck is a tower of ivory: her teeth are IIheep perdlcd 011 the hillll II Love Hebron . -Thi. is Americanism luperimpo~C(1 o n the metapho rical IIUlgullge of the 'Song of Songs.''' Jule& Laforgue, Melanges po~~ lutlllcS (l'a rilj, 19(3). PI" 111-114 ("Notes sur Ba udelaire").·' Compare J86a ,2.
U9.41 -'Ill lUI' fogs 11\0118 the Seine, the ltorm of his youth and the marine l unll of hi, memories have loosened the 8trin gll of an incurably plaintive and shrill Byaa nline viol." Jule8 Laforgue, l'tfelonSfl! pmthumes (paris , 1903), p . 114 ("Notes lIur Baudelaire")."'" (J9.5]
When the 6rsl edition of us Fleurs du mal appeared, Baudelaire yean old.
WBB
lhirty-.U: 1J9,6]
Le Vav8ueur dC8Cribet bim around 1844: "Byron attired like Beau BnlmmeU. "
U9.7I The Petits l'oome~ en prose were first collet:ted posthumously.
U9,81
" He was th!! fi ra tto brca k with the public," Laforgue, MelangeJ IJ05thum eJ (Paris, 1903). p , 115.1>3 [J9,9) " Baudelaire tbecat , n indu, Yankee, episcopal, alchemist .--Cat; hill way o( .. ~ ' my dear' in that solemn piet.~ that opens with 'Behave, my SorNw!'-Yankee: the use o( 'very' before an adjecth'e; his curt descriptions o( land ~cape, and the line 'Mount, nly spirit , wander at your ease,' whicb the initiatetl recite in metallic tOlltll; hill hatred of eloquence and of poetic confidences; ' Vapo rous pleasure will drift out o( sight I All ... ' wha t then? Hugo, Gautier, and othe" before him would have made a French . oratorical eomparison ; he makes a Yankee one and , without llettled prejudice, rt'.mains in the air: ' All a syiphid pirouettes into the winp' (you can see the iron wirell and i tagt' machinery).-Hindu : his poetry is closer to the Indian than that o( Leconte de Lisle with all his erudition and du.zLin~ intricacy: 'uf sobbing (ountains and of birds that lIin ~ I endless obbligatos to my trYllu.· Neither II great ht'art nor a great intellect . but whllt plaintive nerves! What open senses! What a ma,,.-iclll voice!" J ulea Laforgue, MelangeJ pOl thllmfi. (Paris, 1903), pp . U 6- 1I 9 ("Notes aur Baudelaire").... [J9a, l]
One of the few clearly articulated passages of the Argument du /iurt: Jur fa Bel~ gique--in chapter 27, "Promenade a Malines ": "Profane airs, adapted to peals of bells. lltrough tile crossing and recrossing melodies, I seemed to hear notes from "La Marseillaise." The hymn of the rabble, as broadcast from the belfries, had lost a little of its harshness. C hopped into small pieces by the hammers, this was nOl the usual gloomy howling; rdther, it had taken on, to my ears, 3 childish grace. It was as tllOUgh the Revolution had learned to stutter in the language of
heaven." Baudelaire, OeuurtJ, vol. 2, ed. ¥(vcs,...G
Argument du livre Jur ia Belgique, chapter 25 . "Architecture-Chul"'t!helt_Relig. iOIlS.'" " Bruaseili. C hurch e~: Sainte-Cudule. Magnificent stailled-g1Bl1s winduwa . Beau tiful intenst! colors, like those "'ilh which a I>ro(ound soul invests aU the obje(;ts o( Li(e." Baudeillire, Oeu vreJ, \'01. 2, ed. Y.·C. Le Dllntec, p . 722.-" Mort des amanu" -JugendstiI- l-l as hillh. [J9a,4)
"I asked myself whether Baudelaire. , . had lIot 8ought, th rough hiIItrionica and psychic trall.s(er, to revive the adventurea of the prince of Denmark . . . . There wo uld have. been nothing 8urpri'ing in hia having performed (or him,self tbe drama o( EIs.inort:." Leon Datltlet, Flambearu (Paris ~ 1929» , p . 2 10 ("Baudelaire").
[J1O,11 "The inner life ... o(Cbllrlell Baudelaire ... seem! to have puslled ... in con stant fiuctuatiou between euphoria lind aura. Hence the double chllractt:r of his poemll, which, on the one hand , reprea.enl a luminous beatitude and , on the other, a state of ... taedium vitae." Leon Daudet, Flambeaux (Paris), p . 212 ("Baudelaire").
Ul0.21 J eanne Duval. Madame Sahatier, l\1arie Dauhrun .
Ul0.31
" Ba udelaire " ' 11 out of place in the stupid nineteenth century, Ae be.lonp to the Renaissance .... This ca n be felt even in the bepnnings o( his poems, which recall those o( Ronsard .'· lkon Daudet, Flambeaux (Parill). p. 216 ("Baudelaire; l..e Malaise et ' l' aura "'). [J10,4) Leon Daudet voices a ver y unfavora ble j udgment 0 11 Sainte-Deuve's Baudelaire.
UIO.51 Among those who have pictured the city of Paris, Balzac is, so to speak, the primitive; his human figures are larger than the stttets they move in. Baudelaire is the firSt to have conjured up the sea of houses, \Vith its mwtistory waves. Perhaps in a context with Haussmann. [J1O,6] "The baudelaire . . . is a kind of culla8f . . . . Bruad and ahort and double· etlgerl, . . . die IlIuulclaire ensures a dead ly thrust. for the hand th ai holds it ia near Ihe IJOint." Victor-Emile Michelet , Figllre6 d 'evocalellrs (PllriS, 19 13), fl . 18 ("'Baudelaire , ou U Divulateur douJourt' ulC"). [JIO,7]
"Tile daluly. Baudelaire haa lIaid, 'lIhouJd aspirc to be 8ublin>e, COlllillually. He lIhould Iivc and sleep ill [rout or a mirror. ,..,.., Loui. Thollllll, Curio$ites IIlr lJaude. laire(Paru . 19 12), !,p. 33-34. IJI0,8)
R6ger AIlard- i.n Baudelaire et " 1'1!.· 'prit nouveau " (Parill , 1918). p . 8---cumparee Bautlt·h.irc·. poems to Madame Subaticr with Honliard 'lI fJ ocms to HClene.
Two stam;ae b y Baudelaire. found 0 11 the Jlage of 8n album:
[JIOa.4]
NoMe , trollg·armed woman, who 81eellllnd drcam throligholiliong da ya wilh nu thoughl of !jood ur cvil. whu wear ro bes proudly t1unll in Grecian &Iyle; you whom for man)' yc. ... (which 11«01 Blow 10 me onw) my lips. Wf': U vel'8Cd in lu.ciou. kiues, cherished wilh . Ulhe dc\'Olion of II monk ;
"""'0 writers prufolludly influcol't:t.i Ba udelaire. or rather '''''0 books ... . One ill Iht' {(,.licio ... Diuhle a mOltretu, Ily Cazolle; the other, Diderot'li La Religiewe. To th~ (i rsl . man y of the poelDJl owe their re8tiess frenzy . . . ; with Diderol, Baudelaire ga thcrl lhe . omher vi u lel ~ of Lesho8." Allhis poinl . in a nOle, a citation from .A pollIulllirt" 1I commentary til his edition of Ba udelairc's OeulJre, poe'ique.; " One "'ould prubuhl y 11111 go wrung ill taking Cazolle u ~ the hyphen thai had the honor of uniting, in ... Baudelaire, tlle lIpint of tlle Revolution's writerl! with thai of Edgar f"oc ." Roger Allard . BllUdela ire et ""Esprit nouveau" (Paria, 1918), PII . 9--10. <See J 20a.2 .) IJI 08,5)
pri e8le~8 of debauch, my siSler in IU81 . who tliatlained to c.rry anti nourish a male child in your h. llowed urn, hul rf':ar and ftC!(' the appallinll81igmata which virtuc.earvP.<'l wilh ilf degrading blade in ,,~gn a nl matron,' It. nb . ~~
Louis Thoma8, Curio3iteJ sltr Blllldewire (Paris, 191 2). p . 37 .
"He is always polite to whal i. ugly." JulCi Laforgue . Melange. poJthume. (Paris, 19(3), p . 114 .... /j IOa,3}
(]1O,9J
" He W 8jJ thefirat to write abou t himself in a mooerate conleuional manner, and to leave of( the inspired tone. I He Wilt tbe 6.rst to lI peak of Parill frum the point or view of one of her daily damned (the lighted gas j etll flickering with the wind of Prostitution , the r estaurlln t!l and their air venls, the hospitals. the gambling, the logtl resounding as they are &a ..... n and then dropped 0 11 the paved court yarde. aDd the chimney corner, and the catll, bedll. lItockingll, drunka rds. and modern per· fumes}--all ill a noble, r emote. and lI uperior fu hion . _ .. The firllt also who acCUlies himself ralher than appearing triumphant, who . ho ..... 1i hill wounde, bU Ia.r:inen, h ill bored u8Clesllne81 at the heart of thill dedica ted. workada y century. I The firsl 10 bring to our litera ture the horedom implicit ill sensuality, logether with its strange decor : the sad alcove , ... and 10 take plcusurc in doing so . . . . The Painted Ma&k of Woman and iu heavenl y extension UI sunset .. _ Spleen and illness (not the poetic aspecU of consulllption but rather neurosill) ..... ithout ever once using tbe ",·ord ." Lafa rgue, Melanges poslhumes (Paris, 1903). PI>_ 11111 2,'" U IOn, l)
" From the mys tl!riOlIll darkness i.n which they had germinated. lIt',.1I1 Ollt .ecret roou . and n:ared their fecund stalks, Les Fkurs du mal ha ve gone u n 10 blossom magnificentl y. ul>4! uing up their somber jagged corollas ,·!'.ined willI the culo rJ of life and , under all endJeli!! 8ky of glor y anti lIcandal , i ca ttering their heady perfumf;8 of love, of sorrow, and of Ileath ." Helin de Hegnil'r, ("Baudelaire ct LeJ flel!rs du mal," introductory et811Y) in Chllr les Baudelaire, " I..e. Fleur' f /l! I/Ial" el "utre~ 1)~ m e' (Pari!! (1 930)) , p . 18 . /j IOa,21
"The Oavo r olf late autumn ... which Ba udelai re savor ed ... in the literary decomposition of low Latin. " Roger Allard , Baudelaire e t "I'EJprit nouveou" (Paril, 19 18) , p . 14. [Jll , l) " Baudela ire . . . ill the most mUlIicaJ of French poet •• alonr; with Racine and Vel'. laine. But Wherl!a5 Racine pla ye omy the violin , Baudelaire plays the whole or. cheslra." Andre Sliares, Preface to Cha rles Baudelaire. Le, Fleur$ du mal (Pam , [J ll .2) 1933), pp . xxxi\·- xxxv.
" If Baudelaire is supremely contailletl. as no olle sUlce Dante has been , it ill beca use he al .....ay. concentrates 0 11 the inner life, as Danle focused on dogma. " Audre Sua res. Pre.face to Baudelaire. Le, Fleur. du mol (Pam. 1933). p. XXJt:vw . (]11 ,3J
Le, Fie!!rs rill mal is tile Ilif enlO of the niuelet:llth century. But Baudelaire', de. ' pair calTies him infwitely heyolllilhe wrath of Dante." Andre Suare., Prefa ce to UaudeJaire . us Fleur. du mal (Parill. 1933). p . xili . [J ll .4] "'There U 110 artist in \'e'rlli' lIilH! rior 10 Baudelaire." Andre Suares. Prefa ce 10 Bil utlelai rc. l.e. Fle.,rs dll mClI(Pa ris . 1933), p . xxiii . (JlI ,5]
!\pulliutlirc: " Uaudeluire ilf the llcioll of Laclo, allli Erlgar Poe." Citetl in Rilger AlIllrJ . Blilu/eillire el "'I'E5pril IIO/ltleau" (I)llriS. 1918), p . 8. (] 11 .6J The "Clloix dl' Inaxuut's consolalllet $UI" r amollr" <Sd ccted Consolalor y Maxim' Lu" c> cO llt u in ~ 1111 e )(C U I"6 11 ~ U II ugliness (first published March 3. 18<1-6 , UI Le Cur, ai rc-SlIICUt ). The hclo\'t't.I IrKi c'.lIItractcd smuUplJx Kllll lllifferctl Rears , which frortl tlren on 141'11 lire 10vcr 'H Ilt:light : ;' You run It gruve ri. k, if yuur pockma rkell 0 11
nUlItre88 betray!! yuu . of being able to con!!ole yourself ollly with pocknlarked ,,·omell . For certain spirits, more precious and more jaded , deligbt ill ugliness proceeds from lI.n ohllcllrer sentiment still- the thir@ 1 for the unknown and lhe. taste for the horrible. It is this sentiment. , . which drives certain 1~t.8 into the di,,~ecting r Ollm or lhe clinic, and women 10 public exec;utions. 1 am sincerely sorry for the ma n who callnot understand I.hill-he ill a h arp wlw lacks a bass string!" Baudelaire, Oel/vre.!. vol . 2, ed . Y.-C. i.e Dllntec, p . 62 1.... [j 11 .7] The idea of "com:.spondences" surfaces already in the "Salon de 1846," where a passage of Knisleruma is cited. (5« the note by Le Dantec, OeulJw, vol. I, p. 585.)" lJ 11 ,8)
In considering the aggressive Catholicism displayed in Baudelaire's later work, o ne must bear in mind that his writing had met with scant success during his lifetime. 1bis could have led Baudelaire, in rather unusual fashion, to align himself or rather to identify himself with the completed works. His particular sensuality fo und its theoretical equivalents only in the process of poetic composi· tion: these l."quivalents, however, the poet appropriated to himself as such, uncon· ditionally and without any sort o f revision. They bear the trace of this o rigin [jlla, l ] precisely in their aggressiveness. "'He has ti n iI blood-ret! cravat and ruge gluves . Yes, it is 1840. , . , Some years, even veen glOVed were worn . Color disappeared (rom outfits only reluctantly. For Baudelaire Will nol atolle in sportint; that purple or Luick-colored cravat . Not alone in wearing pink gloves. Hill trademark is in the combination o( the two e(ft!Cls with the "'lick outfit." Eugene Mur~ an , Les Caulle.! de M. Paul Bourget et I.e bon ch ou de I'hilinte (Paris , 1923), pp . 236-237. [jlla,2]
" Hill utterances. Gautier thought . were full of 'capital Id lers and italics. ' He ilppea red .. . surprised at what he himself said. as if he heard in his own vuiee the words of a stranger . But it musl be admitted thai hill women and his sky, hil perfumes, hill lIoltalgia, his Christia nity and bis " emulI , his ocean s and his tropics, made for II subjt!Ct matter of IItwming novelty.... I do nol even critici:l:e hil jerk y gail, . . . which made people compare him to a spider. It wn the beginning of that a ngulilr geiliculiltion which , little by Liltle . would displace the rUllndt:d gracell of the old ....orld . Her e, 100. he is a prec ursor." Eu,;ene. Marsan, Les CU/lne.! de M . Paul Bourge , et Ie bon chou de Philinte (Paris. 1923), pp. 239-240 . [J ll a,3] " His gestu res were lIoble , slow, kepI ill close 10 the body. nil! lJ()litcll e~s IUlCm ed urredell ht!t! ulIse it WIUJ a legacy or the eightl!euth century, Baudel aire beuig the SO li uf all olel man whu bilt! kno wn the salulI!!. " Eugene Marsall , Lelf Cu nmM de M. Pull' Jjo urJ~l:' t I:'t Ie bOil clwu de Philinte (Paris. 1923), p. 239. I1 lla,4] 'l'ht' re arc IWO different \'ersions of Baudelaire's cldml ill Brussels. ;: G ~lIrge;l RI~ n I!Y. willi n~ JlrtxlU Cell Loth , prefen tlu~ ti ne Ly the \·hrolliclcr Tartli~u . " In a
horrible funk ," wriles the latter, " BQudeiaire rt:a,1 a nd lItamDlered and trembled. hill teeth chau ering, li18 nOlle huried in Illll manuscript. It was a disas ter: ' Camille Lccuonnicr. on the otlter haml. caDIt: a way with the " imprcnion of a lIIu@:uiflcent tlliker. " Georges Reney. Ph y~ ionomies liueraire.! (BrulIlIe!J. 19(7) , pp. 267. 268 (--CharleJ Bllullelaire"). [j 12.l J
·' He .
. never millIe a seriuus erfort to under stand what. was e1l:tf:.rnal
10
him ."
Ceorge;! Rency, Phpionomie.! lilteraire.! (Brusllels . 1907). p . 274 (" Charlet
Ba udelaire" ).
(J 12 ,2J
" Baudelaire is a8 incapable or love as of labor. He loves ali he writes , by fil8 a ud starts, a nd then relapses into the di.llllolute egoism or a liQueur. Never does htl-s how the Blightesl curiosity abo ut human affairs or the sli~h tell t COll8ciouslleu of human evolution .. .. His arl could ther erore be said .. . til , in by r ea;;on of it s narrow_ ness and singula rity ; these, indeed . are deC~ts which pUI ocr sane and uprigh t minds 8nch as love clear works or universal import. " George. Rency. Phy.!ionomil'.! litteraire.! (Brussels, l 907). p. 288 (""Charles Baudelaire" ). (J 12.3J " Like many IlUolher lIuthor of his da y. he was 1I0t a writer hut a stylist . HiMimages are a~o8 t alway. inappropriate. He will say of a look tllat it is 'gimlet-sharp.' ... He will call repentance ' the las t hOllelry.' ... Baudelaire is a still WO I'8e. wriler iu prose than in verse .. .. Be duet not even know grammllr. ' No French writer. ' he SIlYII , 'ardent for the &lory or the Dation , ca n , without pride a lltl withollt regrets ,Liver[ his gu e . .. ' The solecism here i.s not only ftagrallt ; it is foolish ." EdmoQli Scherer, Etude, mr lo. litterature contemporaine, vol. 4 (PuriH, 1886), PI', 288289 (" Ba uddairc"). [J12,4J
~Bau.d elairt' is a sign not or decaden ce in leiters hUI of the general lowering oC IOt~gence." Edmond Scberer. El/ldes .!ur fa litl eralllre conlempor1line, vol. 4 (Pan s, 1886), 1>. 29 1 ("Charlet! Baudelaire" ).
[J 12,5]
BrUlletiere recogni:t;es, with Gaulier. th at Baudelaire h u opclled new territory fur PI~·try. Amollg tile criticisms registered against hi.n. by the Literllry historiaD ill
tb.s·. " Moreaver, he was a poet l\' h0 I aclted more thall unedemellt ofl w art- llola~I y (accordiot; to pt!ople who knew bim) the gift of th.inkillg directl y in \'t~.r ~. -h~rclin a l i tI' UrIlDt-bere-, .. L 'EVQ I/IlIOn . de l fl p oe.!ie • Iyrique e n Fra nce 011 }(lX' .. .!lede. vol. 2 (paris. 1894), I). 232 (" Le SynlbulisnJc"). U12 .6J Brllueliere (L'E 110It ' d " '~ I yrlque . • • II IOn e" ... 1Xff!..! en FrfHlce flU X IX' $iec1e. vul. 2 [ I ans . 1894]) dilltinguislles Baudelaire UII olle sid!" from the 81'11001 of nu~kill oml "' 11 .t he otller from the RU8Sianllo\'~wl8. In both tht'l;e 1I10vemcn ls he SrtH cur;rnts wIlH.' h . with good reason . resist the dermdefl ce proclaime.1 by Baudda ire, ol'llOsing to I"VcrYlhillg h ypercuhivated tbe primitive sinlplir ilY IIlId innocence of lIatnral man. A synlhesis of theae autithetica llendClJciell wouM III~ rcpresente.1 loy WN g-
lu!r. -BruDl!liere arriv(."tt belilledly ( 1M2 ).
ul
tlus relatively positive estimation o( Baude1aire only [J12a. l ]
On Bauddain- in rdatillll to Ilugo and Cautier : " lie Ireats l.h ~ grea t mu ters he learned (rom as he Irtlll lll women : lu~ adtH·es allll vilifies them:' U.-V. Chlltelain, B(Jlldela ire . I'hamme e l Ie poete (Puris). II. 2] . [J 12a.2]
Baudelaire on Hugo: "Not only does he express precisely and translate liu:ralJy what is clearly and distinctly visible, but he expruses with indispensable obscurity what is obscure and vaguely revealed." C iting this sentence in Bauddajr~, I}!tomm~ d Ie potte (Paris). p. 22, Chatclain rightly says that Baudelaire is perhaps the o nly man of his time to have understood the "sccret Mallanneism" of Hugo. []12.,31 " Barely sixty people folluwed the hearse in the sweltering hea l; Banville and Auelineau . undcr II gathering stonn , DIode beautiful speeehetl that nobody could hear. With the e.xeeption of Veuillflt in IA'UniverJ, tbe pres~ Wll' eruct. Everything bore d own on hi.. remains. A gale dispersed hia friends: bis enemies ... caUed him ' mad . ,,, U.- V. Ch att:iui n , Bfludelai re. l 'hammee, I.e poe' e (Paris), p . 16. [J12a,4J For Ihe experiellce of the COrre$pomlanceJ. Ba udelaire refers occosionally to []12.,51 Swcdenborg. anJlllso 10 hashish . Baudelai re. at a COIlL't!rt ; " Two piercing hlllck tiyes. gleaming with a pt.'Cu1iar viviJ· Deilil. alolle a nimated the figure that seem..d frozen in it. shell ." Loredan Larcbey. Fragme/lt 5 tie 50lwenir, (Puri~. 1901 ). p . 6 ("'Le Boa tie Baudeiaire--l.' lmpet..'Ca· hie Banville"). [J12a.6} Lart:hey ia on eyewitness 10 Baudelaire's first visit to an Academician-a call paid to Jules Sondca u . Larchey find s himself in the entrance hall soon after Baudelaire. "WheD J urrived , ... a tlhe appointed IUluf, a bizarre ~ I:recta cl e informed me I had been prec:eded. All aro ulld the hat-pegs of the antecha mber wae coiled a 1005 s<:a rlel boa. one of thosc hil US ill chenille of which young workillg--clas8 women are " articular1 y fontl ." L. uu rrhey. Frogmen" cJ.1l $ou tJenirJ), p . 7. [J 12a,7} Tubleuu of decadence; " Behold our great citics IlIlder Ihe fog of tobacco smoke thllt envelops them. thoroughJ )' w d,lclI b y Illcohol . infused with morphine; il is tJu!n : Iha l hutlillnilY comes llIlltiuged . Hest IIssured thai this source breeds more /·pileptics. idiots, and llu assinll than poets." Maurice. Barris. Lo Folie de Charles UU/ute/oire (Paris <1926». pp. 104-105. 11 13 .1] " In t!olld usioll, I wo uld Uke 10 imagine !hBt a governnlt"lIl l1 uch all WI! cOllc..ivc Bfter 1111: modd (,r Hohllt:s wflulrl illrive ttl a rrc~ l . hy lIome ,·igorollS thCntpt.:Uli,· mcthod , Ih~ II prellfl of tilt'''· dOctrU1CIi. which are U pfolim:tive of maJingcrcrs and trouhle--
luakers all they lire useless for rorming citUens . . . . But I Ihink th aI the wise ,I" s pot. arter carl:ful rCfl Cc.ljnn , would refrain f.-mil inten ·cIUng. fuithfu..l to tile tratlitiun of a.1I a~B ble philosophy: li pres 11 0 m Ie deluge." Maurie'e Barres. La f olie r/l': Charles 8(.IIIdef{lire (Paris) . PI'· 103-104. IJ 13.2] ··Haudelaire wa' pt.:rll ups onl), a hard .wor ki ng soul who felt and untier st(}(ltl whill Wtl S 11(' \'1' through 1'· Ot:. and who (U.\wiplined Ilimself in til(! cuurst' of his life Itl bt"'Colllc SI;et·iulizt:d ." Mouriee Barn!!. u. Fulie de Charle, Baudelaire (Paris), p. 98.
U I3,3]
··Le l us perhaps guard agaillst taking theu' poets too tlluckly for Christian/!. The lilurgit·allaujlJuuge. tile angels, the Sa tans ... are IIII·rel y a miJe ell $Celle for the artist who judge, that Ihe pictureS(IUe is well wo rth II M ass . "~ Mau rice Barrell, La Folie de Charles BUI/delflire (Paris). PI)· 44- 4 5. U I3,4] " Uis best pagel are overwhelming. He rendered sUIK: rll prose inlo tlifficuh verse." [J 13,5J Maurice Barres , La Folie de CI'(Jrlell lJaiu/elf/ire (Parill). I). 54. "Scattered acro u Ule sky like luminous seed s of gold ond silver. radiating out frolll lilt' decl) darkness of night. the stan reprellent [for Baudelaire] the ardor and energy of the humBu imagillation:' Elisabeth Schinzei , Notur !Hld Nu ,ur$ymbolik be; Poe, Baudelnire und den frmuo, ischen Symbali.stell (Diiren [RlWleiandj, 1931). p . 32. [J 13,6] ""Hi,. voire ... mum ~Illik e th .. Iliglutinle rumble of vehicleil , filtering into IJlushly up holslered bedrooms." Maurice Ban es, Ln "'olie (Ie Churle, Buudelai re (paris),
p. m
[]~
" It lIIigItI St:.'tlIlI, al fir~ t . that Blludeluire's ocuvre was rdati vely infertile. Some wits cCllllpBred it to a narrow basin dug with errort in a gloomy spot shrouded in haze... . . The innuenee. of Baudelai re wu ~ revealed in l..e ParlUlue contemporain .. . o( 1865 .... Three fi gure elDerge: . . . Stephall.. Malla nn ~. Pa ul Ve.rlaine. and Maurice Rollillal : ' Ma urice Ba rr~8, La Fulie de Cllllrie., Boudelf/ire (Paris). JIll· 6 1, 63, 65. [J 13.SJ
··A nd Ih" plac(' occupied b y radal epithets OniOIl/! the roh hle lit that lillie!·· MIIII.rit·e Barrt:iI. UI "-olie tie Charles 80udeJa ire (Pa ris ). p . IW. (J l ga.l ] FIUIII!cl·' Itl o a llll,·laire: " You praise til.. l1e~ 1t wit llf)ut loving it. ill u mdulII·holy. rl!"tadlcd WII )' Ihal I fmd "Ylllpulllt~tj c . Ali! Itow well yo u UIlJerSland lilt' IUII"'!(lolli or ex i~ It ' lwe!":I Cile,1 ill Malu·;ce B u rri: ~ , IA(/ f ·o/ie de C"o rI4~~ IJruulcluire (Puris) , I' · :11 . [J13a.2J
Uaudelaire's predilection forJuvenal may well have to do with the laner 's being One of the first urban poets. Compare this observation by ThibaudCI: "In survey·
i.
ing the great epochs of urban life, we see that the more the city provides poets and other people with their inteUcctual and moral life, the mon: forcefull y poetry is pushed outside the city. When, ... in the Greek world, that life was fosten:d within the great cosmopolitan centers of Alexandria and Syracuse, these ciries gave birth to pastoral poetry. When the Rome of Augustus came to occupy a similar positio n of cen uality, the same poetry of shepberds, ... o f pristine nature, appeared with the BucoJiu and the Georgia of Virgil. And in eightecnth-cemury France, at the most brilliant moment .. . o f Parisian existence, the pasto ral reo
appears as pan of a rerum to antiquity.... The only poet in whom one might find a foretaste of Baudclairean urbanism (and of other things Baudelairean as weU) would be perhaps, at certain moments, Saint·Amant.n Albert Thbaudet, Inttriam (Paris <1 924», pp. 7-9. • [J13a,3) "'In paning fN)m alllht:Se Rtl mantic poet!! to Ba udelai re. we plliS frolll II landscape of nature 10 II landscape of a lllne 111111 flellh .... A religio us . we of nature, wwch , for these . . . Romantics, W illi pa rt of their familiarity with nature, has become with Baudl·lair!! a hatn::11 of nat ure." [?] (J 13a,4] Bomleiaire on MU8~e l : "Except at the age of one's fir st Communion- in other wortls, at the age wh!!n ever ything hll ving to do with p ro~ tihll eH and !!ilk s tockings produces a religious errect- I hll ve never heen a ble to endure th at par agon of lady- killers, hill spoiled-child's impudence. invoking heaven allli heU in tales of dinner- table COII\'ena tion" hi, mudd y tor rent of mis ta kea in gra mmar and p rosody, and fin ally his utter in capaci ty to understanll the proces, by which a reverie becomes a work of art ."n Thihaudet , who quotefl this remark inlnterie ur. (p . 15), j uxta poses it with one by Brunetiere on Baudelaire: " li e'. jus t a Sa tan with. furnis hed a pa rtnum t , a Beelze bub ofth e dinner tahle" h•. 16). [J 13a,5]
" A sonllet like 'A Une Passante' ~To a Woman Passing By•. a stanza like the last stanza uf that so nn el 7~ . . . could blossom onl y ill till' milieu of a great capital , where human beings live together as Slr ll ngers to one II notlll:r and yet as travelers on the same journey. Am on,; aU Ibe capitals . Paris alone producu IlUch beings as a ualural fruit. " Al h~rt T hibllutlet , Interieurs ( Paris). !lp . 22 (,'Baudelai re").
1J14.11 " lie car ried a bout him as sorrowful trophy ... a hu rdt'li of memories, Stl thaI he 6fleml!(l to live in a continuul pllr llmllesia . ... T he puet ca rrics within himself 8 lil·jug duree
Thihaudl'l jllX lapuse8 BaudelliLre's "' Une Ch arQgnc"
1bibaudet adverts very aptly to the connection between confession and mystification in Baudelaire. TIuough the lauer, Baudelaire's p ride compensates itself for the former. "Evcr since Rousseau's CtmfiuiofIJ, it seems that all our literature of the personal has taken its departurt: from the broken-down fumitwt of religion, from a d ebu nked confessional." TIllbaudet, 1111irit:urs (Paris), p. 47 ("Baudelaire"). Mystification a figure of original sin. (j 14,4) 'fhibuUl lel (l nterieurf , p. 3·' ) ciles a r emark from 1887, in which Brunetie.re calls Bli uddai re " a s pecies uf ur iental idol, monslroUI! and missha pen . whose natural rleformi ty is heightened by stra nge colon ." (j 14,5]
[n 1859 MilttraJ's Mi reille apl>earw . Baudelai re wal incensed at the book', c:e8S.
I UC.
1J14.61
Ba udelaire to Vigny: "The onl y praise I as k fur this buo k is that readers r e(lognize it's 110 1 a mere album , but has a beginning and an end . "7'; Ciled in Thibaudet , l"terielmf (Paris)_ p . 5. {j14,7] Thiba udet concl udes his dlsay on Ba udelaire with tJle allegory of the sick mUlle, \0\·110, 0 11 Rastignac 1:liU un the Right Bank of the Seine. forms a pendant to tbe Moutaglle Sain le-Ceuevieve Oil the Left Bank (pp. ~ 1). {j14,8] Ba udelaire: " or aU our great poets, the one who writes woul- if Alfred de Vigo y be eltcepted ." Thihuudet, Interieurf ( Paris), p. 58 ("Ba udelaire") . (j1 4,9] Poulet-l\1alulisill had h.ill "shop" in the Passttge d~ P rinces , called in thOlie d ays the [j 14a.l ] Passage Mirell. - Viulet hoa on which clirlf'd his long graying locka , ca refully maintained, which /:a\'e him a Bomewha i d erical a pl)earancc." d ules lIusson) ChampRe ury, Sou ve"ir., et portrait!! lip. jeu"eue (Pa ris. 1872), p . 144 (" Rencolitre de Baudelaire"). [j14a.2] " 11,· wo rked , nOI HlwuYIi consciou5ly. a lthut lIlislllldl'rHtliluling which iSQlalt:d him i ll h i! 0101'11 ti me; Ill' wo rke.1 a l it all the more us this misllllliersianding was ... In:ady ta king shape ill hilnsd f. lIi~ private no teB, pubLii!hed pos thumously, a re Jluinfu!ly re\'('aling in this 1·1'811e1·t . ... Att ~ OOll as this artist of iuculllililrahle sub tlety 81)(,lIk8 It( himJ!lelf. he u aston is hingly a",k-wanl. lrn'parahl y he lae b pride-Io the point "" " t're he reckous inceliJOalltJ y wi l h f(wls, eitlu'r tu u~loulld th!!llI, to s h.:x;k them, or li fter all 10 infnrm them d ial he absol uld y does nu t rl.ockliU wilb fool,:' Andre
Gide, Prefa<:e to C barle~ Baudelaire. Lu FLeurlI du mal. ed . Edouard PeLlelan (Paris, 1917). PI' . xiU-xiv.llI [J 14a,3]
being studiously contemplated . the enigma eurn: nder8 i18 eecrct. " Patti Bourget, Euaill de plydlOlogie contemporCline. vol. I (Paris , 1901), p . 4 ('·Oaulleillire" ).
1J15.31 ''' This hook hus not been written for my wives, my daughteri. or my si ~ t eC!l; he says. speaking of Lell Fleurs du mal. Why warn us? Why this sentence'? Oh , !limply for the pleasure of affronting b ourg~i s morals, with the words ' my wives' dipped ill . a ~ if careleuly. He values tllem , however. since we fmd in hill private journal: 'This Callnot shock my wives, my daughters , or my sisters .• ,. Andre Gide, P reface to Charles Ba udelaire, Lei Fleur, d" mal, ed . Edouard PeLletan (Paris , 1917) ,
~~
Ul~
" Without doubl , Baudelaire is the artist about whom the most nonst'nse haa heen written ." Andre Gide, Prefau 10 C h~ a rles) B
... Lei Freurs du mal is dedicated to what Gautier claimed to he: magician of French letters, pure artist, impeccable writer-and this was a wu y of saying: 00 not be deceived; wbat I venerate ill the art and Dot the thought; my poem~ will bave merit not be<:ause of their movement, passion , or th ought. but because of their fonn," Alldn! Gitle, Preface to Ch. B . . Lell Freu rlI ciu mal, ed . Edouard Pelletan (Paris, 1917), PI" x.i _xii .'iI [J14a,6] "Now he quietl y convt:rses with each one of us." Andre Gide. Preface to Ch. H., Le& Fleurll du mal. ed. E. PeI1etan (Parill, 1917), p . xv.II: [J14a,7] Lemaitre in his article " Baudelaire," published originally in the " Feuilleton Dramatique" seetion of Le Journol dell debau . and writtcn on the occasion of Crepet's edition of the Oeuvrell pOf thu11U!1 et Correllpo1lciunCeil ineditell: " Worst of a ll , I sense that the unhappy man is perfectly incapable of developing the Be sibylline notes. The pemee& of Baudelaire are mosl often only a sort of painfnl and pretentious stammering.... One cannot imagine a Ielis philosophical mind ." Jules l.t:maitre, Lell Contemporaim, 4th series (Paria, 1895), p. 2 1 (" Baudelaire" ). Brooding! <See J55a , h. [J15,1] After Calcutta. " On his return , he cnter s into possession of his plltrimollY. seventy lh ou ~a ntl francs. Within two years . heh88 spent h alf of it. ... For the lIellt twenty years, he Lives on the income provided hy thl! remaining thirt y-fi ve thou ~a nd fra ncs .... Now, llur ing Ihl!se twenty yean, he runs up IUl lllore than ten thousund fra nclI in new debu . Under these conditiolls, as yo u can imagine. he couldn ' t have lnclulgl:d very often ill Neronian orgies!" Jul u Lemaitre, Lel ContemporaillS, 4th series (Parill, 1895). 1" 27 . [J 15,2] Bourget draws a cmul'a risoli between Leonard" and Baudelaire: "We are tlrawn irresi$1iLly 10 prolonged Dlt.- dilation 0 11 the enigma of this painter. of this poet. On
;'l'Ie excels at beginning a poem with words Qf unforgettable solemnity, at once tragic and r ueful : 'Wbat dot:s it matttlr to rue Ihal yll u are wi!\tJ? I Bc lovely-and be sad ! ... ' Elsewhere: " Sudden as a knife you thrust I inlO Illy sorry bear!. ... ' And elsewhere: " Pensive us cattle resting on the beach , I thl!Y are staring oul to jea . . .. ' " Patti Boorget, ElISlIilf de pllychologie contemporai1le, \'01, 1 (Paris, 19( 1). pp . 3-4.113 [J15,4]
Bourget sees in Benjamin Constant . Amiel, and Baudelaire thrce kindred spiritll. iDtellt'cts stamped b y the clprit d'flllalYle, typcs detcrmined by decudence. The l!ctailell appendix to "Baudelaire" is concerned with Constant'e A dolpM. Togethcr with the SI)irit of analysis. Bourget considen ennui an element of deudeDce. The third and lu t cha pter of his essay on Baudelaire, "Theon e de la decadencc." develops this idea with reference to the late Roman Empire. (J15,5] 1849 or 1850: Baudelaire draws from memor y the head of B1anqui. See Philippe Soullauit, Baudelaire (Paris <1931» , illustration 011 p . 15. (J15.6] " It i ~ all a harmony of artifices, of delilierate contradictions . Let us try to note some of these. Realism and idealism are mingled. Along with description tllat takes extravagant pleasure in the most dismal details of physical reality there is , at the samc time, r efined expression of ideas and beliefs that exceed the immediate impressiun made on U 8 by bodies--There ill a union of the most profound sensuality with Chr istian asceticism . 'A horror of life. and an ecstatic joy Ul life,' writes Baudelaire somewhere. 8t ... There is also. speaking of love, the combination of adora tion and contempt for woman . . . . Woman is lIeeli as a sla ve, as an animal , ... yet to her the same homage, the saDIe prayen are addressed as to the immaculate Virgin. Or ra ther, she is seen as the universallrap ... and worshipped (or her d ea~Uy power. And that is not all: evell as on e seeks to render the most artlent passion, one also labors 10 find for it . , . the most llDexpected form .. .that is. what bespeaks t.he greatest 8ang~froitl aud e\'en absence of passion .. Olle bdie\'es, or one. pretends to believe, in the devil ; he ill en\'isaged by tunis. or Simultan eously, as the Father of Evilllnd as the grea t Loser alld great Victinl; and (me {IIJligbu in proclaiming one's impiety in the language of . . . the fllithful. 'Progrc~s' is cursed ; the industrial civilization of the centu.r y is execr ated • .. . a lld , a t tilt' sa me time. the poel revels in the special color alld brilliaucy Lhi ~ civilizlItion hag Lrought to hu ma n life .... Such, I believe, is the hasic intent of Uaudclairism: alwaY5 to unite two oppo..ed orders of feeling ... alit! . at bottulil . two divergenl concept.iollll of tJu!. world !lnd of life--Ihe. Christian alltl the {Itller. til'. if you like. the pn ~t and the present. It is a masterpiece of the Will (like UnlHleiaire, I cal)italtzt'). the las t wu rd in illventivenellll ill the. realm of feeling." Jules Lemujtre, Le!! COnrcmporain" 4th lIeries (Puris. 1895), PI'. 28--3 1 ("Baudelaire") . !l1 5a.l ]
Lemnitre ohser Ve8 thaI Buudelaire r eaUy dld ereate a pancif. Ii cliche, as he Mel out to (10. [J 15a.2] "Thc hlimlly upl'urah ul uf tleslr uetiUII" -where ill thi,.; phrasc ill Baudelaire? In I)cSlrUl:tio ll . ·~ [J 15a.3J
slowness from its long virtua.lity : 'H ow sweet the greenish light o f your elo ngated eyes: ... Every o ne of Baudelaire's poems is a movement... . Each constitutes some particular phrase, q uestion, rc.m.inder, invocation, or d edication, which has a specific direction." Jacques Riviere, Eludu (Paris), pp. 14-18.'" [J 16,2)
" I..u
" You cuuM IJU t him du wn
l)erfect embodiment of the ' Parisian pestimillt .' IwO wortb which earlier wouJd ha\'e jarred on being coupled :' Paul Bourget, Eu uis de psyclwlogie cantemparf.i ne. vol . I ( Paris, 1901) , p. 14. [j15a,4} U8
tilt:
Baudelaire hud briefl y considered re producing. as the frontispiece to the lecond t!4lilion of Le, Fku r" a dance of deuth b y H . Langlois. [j 15a,51 "Th ~
different mell inha bit thili man at one and the lIame time .. .. These three men are all quite nlOtJern , a nd more motlern s till is their Iynthesu. The eruill of religious faith . tbe cit y life of Paris, ami the scientific spirit of the age ... are 10 thoroughl y ullietl here a8 to aplJea r inscparable .... Faith has died out. whereat mysticis m , tllllugit inlcUevtu uUy discrediletl . stilllJermeates the sen, ibility.. . . We cuuM lIote ... the usc of liturgitlMl terminology to cele brate sensual p leas ure . .. or tliat curious work of ' prose' in decadent Latin style which he entitled 'Franeiscae mcatl laudcs.· ... 011 the olher hand . his lihertint: tas tes came from Paris. Ever ywhere in his ... poelllll ill It backdrop of Parisian vice, aR well u a backdrop of Catholic ritual. He h all obviously penetrated-a nd wi th hail'-raising experiencee, we IIIIo1 Y bt: sure--the mosl wretc.hed IItrata of this unchaste city. He has eaten at cum mon dirult~.r lablu beside painted women whose mouths drip blood through nlas ks of L't)ruse. He h as s L~ pt in brothels, and has known the ranoor of hroad daylight illumi nating_along with the faded curtains, the still more faded face of the ,,·oman-fOl'-itire. lie hal sought out ... the unthinking SpaslD that ... cures the mal de pe n.sel'. AlId , al the same time, he has stopped and chatted a l t'very Itrectcorller in tuwn . . . . He has led the life of the literary ma n, ... aod he h as ... " 'hetted the b1i1de of his s pir it wber e that of others would h ave been dulled ." Paul Bourget , Euai.s de p'ycliologie COfll emporaine, vol. 1 (Paris , 1901), pp. 7-9 ("BaUt lelaire"). [j16,IJ
Riviere provides a sequence of felicito us glosses on Baudelaire's poetic procedure: "Strange procession of words! Sometimes like a weariness o f the voice, ... an utterance fu U o f frailty : ' I dream. of new flowers, but who can teU I if this sordid swamp of mine affords I the mystic nourishment on which they thrive [qui firaitleur vigueurl.' Or: 'a favoring Goddess makes the d esert bloom [Cybtle, qui les aime, augmalll: ses verdu rcs] ....' Like those who feel themselves completely in command of what they want to say. he seeks at first the most remote o f tenns; he then invites their approach. conciliates them, and infuses them with a quality you would not have thought could be theirs . . .. Such poetry cannot be the produCt o f inspiration .. , . And just as the unfolding thought ... slowly breaks free of the obsanity in which it began. so the poetic trajectory retains a certain
Frontis piece ( by Hops) to du' colll·ction of Oiluddai re's pOCUll! clltitled Le.s Epm.-e. (Wreckage> . It preseut.!l a Dlultifaf'etctJ a ll"gor y.- Plan t o use lin etching b y Uracquemj)nd 118 Ule frontis piece to the (second edition of) f"leul's du mal. Baullelai rt' (Iescribes il ; " A s keleton turning into a In-e, with Icgs and ribs fOrming the trllnk , the arms Blrt'lcile·d oul 10 make a cross and burs ting into Icaves and buds. -:;heh ering sever al rows of poisonous pla nts in lillie pots . Lined up as if in II gar[J 16.3) J ener'5 hothouse.'')r.
u.
nOliun of SoupuuJl 's: "AII11118t u1l uf the Jloem ~ ure mort" or less directly ill.'! pired by a prinl or a painting.... Ca n it he said that he sacrificed to fa shion? (1 .. dreaded being alone .. . _ His weakness obliged him to look for things t o lean (JI 6u,I ) on." Philippe SOupuuJl, BlIudelaire ( Pari M( 193 1» , p. M. CU riOU li
hi ~ nla turity und reSignaliuu. he nevcr s poke .. wonl of regret or complaint ahont his ehildhmu1. ·' Arthur Holitseher. " Charles Buudela ire," Die Uf era",r, vol. 12 , pp . 14- 15. 1116a.2]
" In the years of
"T hese images . . . du Dol ailll to caress our imaginatioll ; they are (lislant Hod stuwed , the wa y u voice sounds when it emJ>has i ~es something.. .. Like a word ! I'0ken in our ellr when we lea SI expected it , the poet i8 suddenl y hard by: ' You relUemher ? You remember whal I' m 811.ying? Where did we see- l hat together, we who dOIl' 1 even know each other?" J HCflue&!til·iere. Erude, (Pari,). p". 18-19.
[J16.,3] " Baudelaire under stood the clairvoyance of the heart that lines uot ac knowledge aU it experiences .... II is a hesitation , a holdillg hack , a modetit gaze." J acques Rhtiere , Etude, (Puris). p. 21. 1116a.4] " Uncs of verse 110 pcrft'1:t . 8(J mcal urt' J . Ihula t first oue hesitateli to grant them aU their meaning. A hoJW &tirs fill' a minute--tloubt u~ tu their I~rofundit y. But one lJ16a.51 ncet! Q'nJy wait." Ja C(IUeli Ri vii':!'e, Eludes ( Pa ris), II . 22.
On BHuddairc's " Cn: jllw'lllc du ma l.i.II " <'l\vilighl of Du yhrt:ak): ,cEloich line of " Cr;' pII SI~ ule !l1l lII utin " -wit lw ul ~ trid e ll uy, witl. t! t' votiou--ev., kel a mitiffll'tunc:' J UI·qU.:" Ri vier.l. "-'Iude, (I'!tris). p . 29. [J16a.6) "'I'he Ilcvo tioli IIf a hC.II rl mOl'ed to t;('Slasy li y weakness .... 'I'hougll ht' 5 pcak~ of the m(lSI horrihlt! thinp'o !.IU' fil:rC t' IW ~~ of Ilia rt.'8Ik'(; t Icnli8 him 101 8uhLle decl:nc),.·' Ja t'q ucs Ri viere. Erutle, ( PUri8\ . PI" 27-28 . 1J16a.7]
Accurding IU Chaml'lIcury, Baudelaire wu uld lUlve hought up all the uDsold item. from the Salon uf IM5 . [J16a,8]
of pure imagina tiOIl , luse Ihe uae of their hearts" (L 'Echec {Ie Baudelaire [Pana, 193 1]. JlJl. 201. 2()'l)."IJ {j17,4J
" Oumleloire knew t.he art of tnUl1!forming his features a8 well U 8 any el!caped convict. " d ules) Cllillnpfle ury, SOItlJf!:nir$ el porlm,', de jeutleue ( Paris, 1872), p. l35 ("ReDcontre de Baudelaire").-Cour(,et complained of the trouble he had completing the portrait!)f Baudelaire; Ihe suhj t:(; t lookal different from one dllY to Iht' next . [J16a,9]
" Uaudduil'c luved Aupie.k widwul being Owure of it , all(1 ... his reaHon fflr continually provoking hi!! 81cpfatlll'r Wit S ill QI'dt'r 10 he lovcu hy him .... H J eanne Olu'a l played a part ill the l)Ut:t 'lI emotional life IIlIalogous to that played by ."upick , we CIIII undcrsla nll why Bauclf' laire was ... sexuall y IWe8ened by her. ."Ofl so ... Ihill nnioll s tOOII. ralher, for a Ilunlo!IeXual ullion , in which Baudelaire dlicny pluycd the passive rlllt.- -thul of the wOlmm. " Hemi Lllforgue, L 'Echec de f1(1IH/eiaire ( Paris, 1931), pp. J75, 177. ~I !j17,5)
8au~l elllire '8
liking for porter.
[j16a,lO]
"UaUilelaire'! favorite flO'I~'ers " 'ere neil her daisy, carnation , nor rOSf!:; he would brea k into ra ptures at the sight ()f those thick-Iea \'ed 1)lants thai look like vil)ers ahoul 10 faU on their prey, or spiny hedgehogs. Tormented forlll s, bold ft}rm&-l ueh wall this lIoet'8 ideal:' ChulllpHeury, Souve"irs et portrailS de jeuneJJe ( Paris. 1872), p. 143. [j16a,11) Gide. in Ins preface 10 Les Fleurs (ill mal, lays t-mp hasi!! on the "centrifugal aod tlisintegrating" force which Baudelaire. like DOliloevsk y, reeogni:ted in himself and which he felt to be ill oPl)Osition to his productive concentration (p . xvii).[Jl', l) " Tbis las te Cor Boileau and RII(:ine was nol an aCfeclalion in Baudelai re .... Tbere is sumething more in Le, Ffel~rs d" mat than tbe ' thrill of the new'; there is • rl'turll to Iraditional French verse .... Even in his oervous malaise. Bauddllin relailll!! a certain sanity." Rerny de Go urmont . Promenadu iillerairu, 2nd teriet! {j17,2} ( Paris, 19(6), pp . 85-86 ("Bauddaire et Ie 80nge d 'Alhalie"). Poe (as cill.:d in Remy de Gourmont . Promenade, uuerairf!$ [Paris, 1904], p . 371 : " Ma rginolia s ur Edga r Poe et &Ur Baudelaire" ); " The assura nce oC the wrong or error oC any action is often the one uncuuquerable force winch inlpels us. aod alone impds us, lo it s prosecution." '" [J 17,S] CUII.3lruction of " l..' Echee de Ba udelaire" (Baudelaire's defeao , by Rene LaCorgue. As a child , Baudelaire ill 8uppo!le~IIO have witue..sed Ihe coiluli of his nu r&e or his motht'r with her (firsl or aec:ollll ?) hushand ; be would fmd himself in the positioll (If thirtl p~~rsOIi in a love rclaliunship and would settle dowli in that positiun; he would llccoUic II voyeur alld fretlUell! bordellos mainly IU~ a voyeur; owing to tln!! lIume fLXutiu o on the visua l, he woultllJeCu me a critic and experience a n~ ror obje(·uvily. "su thll t nothing iii ' Ioiil 10 view. ". He ""otlld hf-Ioug to a d ellrl y defined category (If pa tiellts; " For Ihem, 10 st.'t! mellns to sc)ar II Ijc)ve everything, like I:Uglt·S, in compleh: s!!eurit y, IIlullo realize a 801'1 of QmnilKJtcnce by identificalion lit once with the In UIi a llli wilh 1111: WOIIIIIII •. •• TIII' ~e ure the people who then devdol' Ihal falal tllS Il~ for lhe aiJsoiul.C . .. , ami who, tll killg rdu gt' in tin: domain
llis (riend~ i!omelimes called Bau.ldaire ":M onseigne ur Brllmnlell ."
1111,61
On Ihe cumpulsiun to lie, os seCD in Baudelaire; " The (lirc!!1 aDd spolltaneoua e.'(pression of a Iruth hecO Ill Cil, Cor Ihese s ubtJe alld tormeuted consciellcel. the rqui,'alelll of slIccess ... in incesl: 8UCC!!I8, tJlat is 10 !ay, in a spbere in whieb il Clln be rea lizt:fl simply by ' good sense.' ... For in those cases where 1I0rmal texuality is re preAlled , gQQ(I ~ellile is (llted to lliek an objeci . to Hene Laforgue. L'Echec de Btllu/eitlire ( Pari", 193 1), 1'. 87. "'1 (j 17,7) Anatole France-w Vw fitteraire, vul. 3 ( Pam . 189 1}---on Baudelai re; " His legI·ml. crea ted by hi~ friend. and admirer s, a bounds in mar ks of bad taBle" (p. 20). " The 1II0 S1 wretched WOlllIHl encountered at night in the shatlows of a disreputable alll'Y take8 Oil , in his mind . u I ragie grande ur: seven demoll ~ are in I.hem ['1 lIud the whole mYilticlI1 s ky looks ~Iown on this 8inner whose soul is in peril. He tells himself thai the viletl Ic.isses J't'SQund through 1111 elernit y. lind he brings to bear on th4 olOmenlur)' encounter eighteen centurieil of devilishncss" (p. 22). " He is attracted 10 women only to the IKJill1 lIt:(;eSSllry (or irrevOCllble Ion tlf his sow. He ill never a lover, IIntllll' would 11 01 evcn be II debauchee if de baucher y were not superlatively impious . . . . rle would have lIothill/l: to do with wtllllcn if he were not hoping tha i. through thelll . lie ('ould offend God and make the angels weep" (" .22). {j17a, l] " At 00110111. I.e hud Lut hll lf u fuilh . Only his spirit wus t':o mplcleiy Chrilltian. His
IIt'lu 'l a nd iliteUtlt' t remaillcd emp ty. There iii a s tory thlll olle tlay a naval officer. of his (ri"mls, s hQ""ed him a manit ou lhal he had hroughl back from Africa. a IIl1111SlwllS Iittlc Iwutl carvcd from a piece of wood by II poor black mall .-' II is Ilwfully u gl ~.· su y~ the orlicer, ami he Ih",'w it away di8tluinfull y.-·Tuktl ca l'e,' Baudelaire said ill all ullx inu~ IOll e, ' Il·~t il prove Ihe Irul"@';u,I !' They wcre I.he m01l1 prufountl wnrdl he ever IIllct·cd . li e (,t·!i,·vtd in unknown g.... l_ noll!!uSl for the pll'u8l1re or I!I II~ phcmill g. " A llal olf' Frall!'c. I Al Vie iilfemirl', vol. 3 ( J>3ri ~. IM1). ft· 23 ("Cllllrlt'Ji Hlluddain·"). fJ I7a.2] " IW
[J 17a.3]
"The hYPOlht!6iJJ of 8audeiaire'l P.G. <porRiY!lf! seneroLe) hal perlisted for half a century 1I.lIIl stiU rt'igr.1Hin certain quarlt!n . Nevertheless, il is baseJ on a gr058 and d(:mollstrahle error and ill without auy foundation ill fp cl. • .. Daudelaire fliflnot flie from P.C. bUI from sofl ening of tlle brain . tlie CQnseqllell{'e of a lilroke ... and of a ha rdening of the cerehral arterie!)." Louil-Antoille-Jusllne Caubert . La NevrQ!le de Baudelaire (BnrdealU , 1930). pp . 42-43. The argument against genera l paralysis is matit:. likewise in a trea tise, by Raymond Trial. La Maiudie de 8(1udewire (Pan., 1926) . p . 69 . But he !leeS tbe bra.in disorder as a CQnseqtIellce of syphilis. whereas Cauhert bc.Jjeves tbat IYllbilis hUl nol bet:n conclusively established in Daudelaire'!) case (see p . 46); he cites Remond alill Voivc.nel. Le Genie iilleroire (Paris, 191 2). p. 41 : " Baudelaire Was . . the victim of liclerosil of the cerebral arteries." [J 17a,4} In his cisay "Le S adis mecbe~ Baudelaire," published in La Chronique medicoLe of November 15, 1902. Cabanes defends the thesis that Baudelaire was a "'sadistic madman" (p. 727). (J18,I] Ou Ca mp on Baudelaire's voyage <'to the indies": " He arranged supplies oftivestock for lhe English a rm y ... , and rode about on elephants while composing vel"lle." 011 Camp ad ds in n note: " I have been told that this a necdote is 8lJurioul; I have it from Baudela ire himself, a nd I h a\'e 110 r eason to doubt its veracity, thoup it may perhaps be faulted for II s urplus of imagination ." Maxime Do Camp, Souvenirs litteraire!l, vol. 2 (Paris, 19(6), p . 60. (J18,2) Indicative of the reputation that precedetl Baudelaire before he had pu.iJJjahed anything of importance. is thill re mark by Gautier: " I fear that with Baudelaire it will be as it once was with Pelrus Borcl . In our younger d ays , we used to 8ay: Hugo h88 only to sil and wait ; lUI 800n lUI Petrus pubJjshes something, he will diuppenr .... Toda y, the name of Baudelaire i ~ bra ndished before us; we are told thai when be pllbJjshes his poem8. MU SSd , Laprade. Bnd ( will dissolve inio thin air. [ don' t believe it for a moment . Baudelaire will burn Ollt just 0 1 P etrus (lid ." Cited in Maxime 011 Camp, Souvenirs iilleraires, vol. 2 (Puris. 1906). pp. 6 1-62 . []18,3] " As a writer, Buudelaire had one great defect. of wbich he hall nil inkling: he Will ignora nt. Wbat he knew, he kllew weU ; bUI be knew very linlf:. History. physiolo~, archaeology. philosopll)" aU duded him .... The external world searcely inten.'Sloo him; III: liaw it perha ps, but assuredly he never studied it :' Maxime Du Camp, SOIwenir!l liUeraires, vol. 2 (Puris, 19(6). p. 65. [J18,4) From the e\'ulu atioll!! of Baudelaire by his teucherK at Ihe Lycee. Lo uis.le-G rund : " Head y millfl. A few lup~e8 ill taste" (ill Itlu~ t u ric). "Cumluct sOIliClinll's rather unrul y. This &11111,·nl . as he hilliself admits . il-rt IlIS convinced that Ilistory is perf.:'£tl y u'II'leu'" (in Histor y).- Letter uf AUgull1 II . 1839 . to his 8tcllfather. afler "lI rnillll: hi8 bUf:calalll'ca le: " I did ratlll~r poorly ill Illy cx.amillatioll8, t::l"cepl for
Latin and Creek- in which I did vt'ry well. And thill is whal saved me.·"'13 Charlea Uaudd ui rt: . Ver!l hlti"." ed . Jul.:1 Mouquel (Paris. 1933) . Ill'. 17.18, 2(1. [j18,5) Ael"orilillg to (jol!C!l'hill) Pilaflan . " , 'hi:orie p laSlique
t i t:
l' ulltiroS)'lIe- (Mercu re
de "'rlmee. 21 [ 19101, I" 650). the and rogyne uPI,>ear " in ROSselli ami Bum.,.. J OII !!;; .
Erne!;1 SciJljere. Bom/eloire (Paris. 1931). p. 262 , 0 11 " tlu~ death of artilits": " Re.reading h is work , (tell myself that , were he making hill debut a8 u writer now, 11 0 1 Hilly wuuld he lIot be singlf:d oul for distinction . hut he wou ld be judged mal[j 18,7] adroit : ' Sci.llii:l·e refers to t.he ~ tor y " La Fanfarlo" as a documeut whose importa nce for Ila udelaire', biography has 11 01 heen sufficientl y recogrlued
[]18,8] " Oaudelaire will keep to the end this intenniUent awkwardness which was 10 fflreign to the da:u:ling technique of a 1:lugo. " Erne!t Seilliere, Baudeluire, p . 72.
[J 18,,!] Key panages on the ullsuitability of pauio n in art : Ihe l econd preface 10 Poe, the [j18a,2]
~ IUll yo f Ca ut.ier.'"
The firstlectnre ill Brullseis was concerned with Gautier. CamiUe Lemonnier compares it to a Mas!! celebrated i.n honor of the master. Baudelaire i, said to have flisplayetl , nn this oceasion , "t he grave lieauty of a cardinal or letters officiating at the uhar of the Idea l." Cited in Seilliere , Baudelaire (Parill. 193 1), p . 123 . [J 18a,3) " 1" the drawing room 0 11 the 11luce Royu le, Bauddaire had himself iniroouced as a fen <enl disciple but .. . Hugo, ordinarily so skillful in sending awa y his visilOnl happy. did not understalld the lIrtificialu le character and the exclusively Parisian Il r edilections of the young mun .. .. Their relations nonetheless rClnained cordial, 1·lugo ha\'ing evidently not rt!IHI the 'Salon de 1846'; alltl. in hili ' Ri.flexions sur IIUf'lqucit- ullS de llIe 8 contemporains'
knuwn.
s llpl',,~efllo
lill v,' f'njoyed strulling often [J 18a.5)
the f)lIfll y!;-Uuutlei airc's fon .bears 011 hi~ IIIntlu.:r ·s
~ iJ'~lI l1t hin g
is [J18a,6)
" 111 187fl. i ll UII artit-Ie eOl.itl",1 ' Chez feu 111 0 11 IIIl1ill'C ' (A t tht· Hom" of My Late Melltor), Cluflel would eVllke ... Ihe ruucll.Ln: trlli t ill the pltylliognOIll Yof the pOCI.
Never. lIueol"lling to t.hill will1 e~ & , ... was he more furhitltlin g tlum whcn ile wAnted IIPI)t;ltr j oviltl: Ilill voice look on a tl uq uieting edge , while Ius vi.! comu;u matle Qlle siJutltlcr. On the prel.:,,1 "f ('lCorcizing tile evil lilliritll of hi. auditorll. and with hur~ 1 8 or laughter piercing a8 8obs. he told them uut ragllOUll lales of Iry. U beyond lht' grQve which froze the blood in tbdr veins ." Ernest Seilliere, lloudelaire (Paris. 1931), p. 150. 111 8a,7) III
Whe.r~ in Ovid is th~ passag~ in which it is said that th~ human fa ce was mad~ to mirror th~ stan?B 1118a,8)
Seilliere notn thai the poem!! attributed apocryphally lleerollhilic in character (p. 152).
10
Baudelaire were aU IJ 18a,9)
" Finany, al we know. the p&8sional anomaly has II pilice in theart of Baudelaire, at least under one of iu aIiIHlCU. lbat or Lelhos; the other has not yet been made admillsiltle hy the Ilrogre88 of moral naturism,'" Em eljt Seillie.re, Buudelaire 1118a,IO) (Paris. 193 1). p , 154.
a
The sonnet "Qyant moi, si j 'avais un beau pare plante d 'ifs"
Leconte de Lisle's opinilln that Baudelai re mUlit have composed his poems by ve r~ iIying a pro~e tlrQft i~ taken UI) by Pierre Louy" Oell,u res coml,l.etell. vol. 12 (Paris. 1930). p. liii ("Sui te ii Poeti11Ile"), Julcs MOUiluet commcuts on tbis view in Cilarlell Baudelaire. Ifer.f l(lli",. imrUllul:ti un IIn,1 not es by Jule8 Mouquet (Parill, 1933). p. 13 1: " Let:onte de. Lisle anll Pierre Lou YII. ca r ried a ....ay by their anlipa _ thy to Lhe C/J ristian poet of Le. f'leurs du mal, deny that he had any poetic gift!- Now. according lu t'l(' testimony of friends of h..i8 yo uth, Baudelaire had ~ tartt-d oul by wriLing thousands of Lines of flu ent verse 'on allYand every subject ,' v.. hich lae could hardly have done without ' thinking in verse, ' He deliberately ~ill ec l in this rnellit), when . , .. at abolll the age of twenty-t .... o, he began to write IlIl' poems which he e.lltitlf'tl fu'tlt i.e, Lelb ~nnel, then Le, Um bes . . .. The Petits I'oemes ell IJro,e .. , • in whidl Ille poet retllrnli to themel ht' had already treated in verse, were cornpolleil a t least tl'lI years aft er Les FleurJ du mal. That BaudeIllire had difficult y fas hioning verse ill a legend which he lilinllelf lM!rhapll .. . helped spread. '" [J19,4)
u,
Accul'lling 10 RaYll10ml Trial , in Ml,li,die de llaudelaire (Paris. ]926). p, 20. recent rescarch hall shown tbat hereditary syphili ~ 01111 aClluired syphilis are not mutually excl usive . T hUll. ill Ullulleillit't", cai e, acquired syphilis would have joined with tbe heredita ry straill transmitted b y the fath er a nd manifest through hemiplrgia in both suns ant! ill his wife. [J19a.l ) Baudelaire, 1846: "u evcr yo ur ft iineur's curiosity hus landed you in a street brawl, ~ rh a l)8 you will havr. felt the same delight as J have ofteo felt to lee a prOlector of the public'B slumberfl-a policeman or a municipal gua rd (the real armY}--lhumping a rt'publicun . And if 80. like me. you will ha\'e said in your heart : ' T hump on , thump a little harde r ... , The man whom thou thum pest it an elll!mr or ro~ ami of IJerflimes. and a maniac for uleruiu , He is Ihe enemy of WaUeatl. the enemy of Raphael. ""'1'1 Cited in R, Trial , 1..6 Maladi4! de Baudelaire (Paris , 1926) . p. 5 1. [J 19a,2) "SI>t"ak neither of opium nor or j t:u uDe Dllval if ),ou ....ould crilicize Les Fleurs du mal:' Gilhert Maire. " La Pef!lonnalitc de Baudelaire," 111ercure de France. 21 (Jalluar), 16 , 19(0), p. 24-1 , fJI9a .3) " To ct)lu:eive Buudclaire withoul recourse to his biogrltphy- tbis is the fumlamelltil l objet· t allli fin ul goa l or IJllr IIlllkrtuki ng." Gilbert Maire. " La .Personnaliti .Ie [J 19a,4) BUlllldairt'," Mercure ,Ie J.'ffllfce. 2 1 (.la uIlDry 16. 1910), p . 244. <'jul'llues C";'pel woultllike u ~ 10 louk un OllulJduil't! in such II way that the sincerity 'If his life wouJ,J au u n , U~ of tilt' valul' nr llis work, and thllt, ~ympaLhiz ilig with tlu: mall , we wou],1 I I~ nrll 10 love IWI Il lire nnt! work:' Gilb" rl Maire. " La PeTsullIlIllile de llulI(leiaire." Mere"r" tit" ,.·rll/lCf!, 2 1 (Fehrual'y 1, 19 10), p . 4 14. (J1 9a,5)
Maire wrile» (II . 4 17) thul on BaUliclll.ire.
Ih ~
" incomparable
.~n sibilily "
of Barres walichooled UI9a.,6]
Til Ance.Ue, 1865: "OUIl call IIUIh pOlllletS Ii ullique gelliu, and he a f ool. Victor 1:lugo hus p \'en li S a mple proof of thaI. . . . The Oceall itself tired of his compuny.,' no! {j19a,7] Poe: ''' 1 would 1101 be able to love,' he will say qu.ile d ea rl y. ' did nol deuth mix ita breath with that of Beaut y!"lti Cited ill Eruest Seilliere, B uudelaire (Paril, 1931) , p . 229. The au thor refenr to the time when , after Ihe dellth of Mrs. J ane Stanard, the ftft eell-year-01t1 Poe would slielld 10llg nights in the graveyard , often in the rain , at the site of hcr gr ave . [J19a,8]
Baudelaire to hi8 mother, concerning Le, Fleurs du mal: "This book ... POSSetileti bea ut y d Ull is sinister and cold : it was created with fury and paliellce."lot
••• It
1119.,9J Letter from Ange Pechnul ja to Baudelaire. February 1866. The writer expresses his admiratiou , in particuJar, for the sensuous interfll8ion in the pOOl 'a language. See Erne»t Seillie.re, Baudelaire (Pa ris, 1933), PI>. 254-255. 1119a,10] Baudelaire ascribes to Hugo an "interrogative" poetic character.
l1,o,IJ
There is probably a cOIUlection between Baudelaire's weakness or will and the abundance or power with which certain drugs under certain conditions endow the will. "Archiu:cte de mes feerics IJe raisais, a ma volonte, I Sous un tunnel de pierreries I Passer un oc6m dompte."'1l1 (J20,2] 8audelaire', inllf: r c:-:pe ricnctlll: "Commentators have !lomewhal falsified the aituation ... in insilliing overmuch on the ,heory of univerlial analogy, as formuJated in the sOllnel 'Corres ponilam:cs,' while ignoring the rev('rie. to which Baudelaire was inclined .... There were moments of depenonatization in his existence, moments of ~ e1f- forgetting and of commwllcation with ' revealed paradises.' .. , At t.he end of bis life ... , hf: abjured t.he dream, ... blaming his moral shipwreck on his ' penchant for reve rie.'" Albert Beguin , Lilme roman,iqlle e' le rive (Mar-seilles, 1937), vol. 2, i>p. 401 , 405 . (J20,3]
III his book l..e PurmlSlie, Therive Iloilltli to the dccisive inJIuencc of painting and the graphic arts on a great many of Baudelaire'" poemll. He lIees in tlus II characteristic feature of the Par llass.ian school. Moreover, he sees Ballddaire's poetry ali lUi inter Jlf' nf'tration of Parnllliiian a nd Symbotilillendencics. [J20.4] " A PI'UPI," ;\iI Y10 imagine O;l VI'1) 11I11.ure. through the vi. inn Ibal ot.her~ huve had of it. ' La G ~uI)I C ' cumell uul (lr Midll'llIlIgclo ; 'Heve Ilurillicn ,' oul uf Simone Martilu ; ' A
Une Mutlonc' i. a Baroflue Slallle in II Spanish cllupd:' Andre Tllerivc. Le Pm'ntm~ (Puris. 1929) , p . 101. [J20.5] Thi·rive [mils iu Baudelaire " te r tain ga ucherici. which . loda),. on" cau ' l hel p thi/lking mighl he trails of the suhlime." Antlre Therive. Le Ptlrnf'Uf! (Paris, .192'.1). p. 1)9. [J20,6] In :111 arlil'i(' cUlitlcd "Une Arll'cdole cllntrouv':oe ,mr Baudelaire"
Da~dc~. in an inspired. phrase, speaks of Baudelaire's "trap-door dispositionwhich IS also that orPrincc H amIel." Uon Daudct, UJ I?leriru d 'Emmaii.! (Courn'n- d(J Pap-Bar, 4) (Paris d92B)), p. 101 ("Baudelaire: Le Malaise et I'aura"').
l1'O,8J "'T~leme ... of ... the affirmatiOIl flf a mysterio ull IIrcsence at the back ofthin~, aHlQ tllf' fl elllhs of the soul- the p resence of Eternity. Hence the ObscHl:Iion with ~iUII:piC4:"II ' anllthe lleed 10 break out of the eonfilles of one', own life through the m:'llclIse prolo.llgu tion of a ncestral ml~ mory alld of formcr lives." AU,crt Beguin, LAme rOlllllnlullLe et le reve (Ma r8cillcs. 1937), vol. 2, p . 403 . [J20a, l ]
~oger Allard in II. polemic agaill81 tile introdtlctioD 10 L 'Oeuvre poetique de Ch(.rle, Brmdeillire. et.Iited by Guillaullle ApoWnairc (Paris: Bibliotheque des Curieux) . 1.11 this introduction , Apolliuairc advances tile lhe~is that Baude.laire ~'llilc ina ugural ing tile modern ~I'irit , played linlf' part in its development; hi~ lIltlUf: IICe i~ Ilcarl y spent. Baudt·luire ill !laid to ht.· II. CI'O~8 bctwccn Larlllll and Poe. Allard replics: " In Our view, two wril ers profoundly influenced Daudelain: . or r'dlher two hoolcs .... One. is ... U Viable umoureux (Tbe Oevil in un·e). by CUIJ!lC; II'e other. Dillerot 's 1..(. He.ligieu.se
UOD I)audel . in " Baudelaire: LeMaJaise etl'aura,'" aeQ whet.he r Ba udelaire did not in Bome degree play Uumlel UPI)ollite AUl'ick and iaill mother. [J20a,3]
Vigny wrote "u Mont des oliviers" partly in order to refute d e Maisrre, by whom he was deeply inBucnccd. [J20a,4] Jules Huma inil (u s Hommes de bonne ooionle, book 2 , Crime cle Quin ~ lf e <Paris, 1 932~ , p . 171 ) CODipares the Oineur 10 Baudelaire', " rugged swimmer r eveling in the waves."lo.; [J20a,5]
Compare " the secret harvest o f the heart" ("u Soleil") with "Nothing eva grows, I once the hean is harvested" ("Semper eadem "). KIf These fonnulation!! have a bearing on Baudelaire's heightened artistic consciousness : the blossom makes the dilettante ; the fruit, the master. [J20a,6] T he eesay
IIU
Duponl was co mmissioned by Dupo nl ', pllhLisller.
U21 ,l ]
P(N'm 10 Sara h . a round L8J9. It contains this sta nza: Thousilio 8e1l1Orne shoee slit. lold lit.r 8oul , T he good Lord would la ugh ir with th is wrt.t c~h I l lruck a haught y pose like 8(lrne Ta rturre, I who sell my Iho~ht a nd "'ollid he an author.I"l
(J21,2]
" Le l\1auvaiil Vilrier"- to he comp art~d with Laft'adio's Rete s rutllil
acl) .I811
AWhcn, your heart on fitt with ,'alor and with hope, you whipped the: monc:ylc:nders out of thai place}"ou wert' master then! But now, has not 1nI10rse picrccd your side even deeper than the spear ?!~
Ours is an age o f gaiety and distrust, onc that never long suspends the recital o f nightmares or the speaacle of ecstasies. It has now become clear that no o ne else had enough foresight to undertake such a campaign al the period when Baudelaire began his" (pp. 190- 19 1), "Why did.n't he become a professor of rhetoric or a dealer in scapulars, this didactician who imitaled the blasted and d owntrodden, this classicist who wanted to shock Prudho nune, b ut who, as Dusolier has said., was only a hysterical Boilea u who wenl to play Dante am ong the cafes" (p. 192). Notwithstanding the resounding error in its appreciation of the importance of Baudelaire's work,. the ob itu ~ry contains some perceptive passages, particularly those concem ed Wlth the habItus ofBaude1aire: "H e had in him something of the priCSt, the o ld lad y, and the ham aaor. Above all, the ham aaor" (p. 189). The piece is reprinted in AndIi Billy. us Ec,.ilKlins de combat (Paris, 1931); o riginally appearro in La Situation. !J2I ,6] Key passages on the stars in Baudelaire. (cd. Lc Dantec): "Night! you'd please me more without ~ese stars I which speak a language I know all too well- I I long for darkness, silence, nothing IhC"e ..." ("Obsession,"
:Le Mon joyeux" couJd represent a reply to Poe's fantasies of decomposition: and Ict me know if one last twinge is left . . . ."111
!J2la,2)
1bat is, remorse at having let pass so fine an opponunity f~r .proclaiming ~ dictatorship of the proletariatl " Thus inanely comments Seilli~re (
A ~ard~nic a~cent marks the spot where it is said of the stars: "decent planers, at a urne like this. I renounce their vigilance-" (" 5epuJrure"). I'" !J2 la.3]
Apropos these lines from "Lesbos"-"Of Sappho who died on the day ~f.her blasphemy, I . . . insuJting the rite and the d;si~ted ~rship "'~~ere (p. 2 16) remarks: "It is not hard to sec that the ~e ob~ect of~ au~st' religion, whose practice consists in blaspheming and m msultmg tradlbonal otes, is none other than Satan." Isn't the blas phemy, in this case, the love for a young [J2 1,S] man?
o~Jects o n the street. Wha t is most characteristic, howcver, is that he d oes this With ~e p hrase "trembling like a foo' " in o ne of his most perfea love poems "A Une Passante "II. •
sOO.'
yanes,
From the obiruary notice. "Charles Baudelaire," by Jules \V~cl;"appeared Septemher 7, 1867, in La Rlu: ;;Wtll he havc ten years oftmmortality. (p.190). ~TI1CSt: arc. moreover, bad times for the biblicists of the sacristy or of the cabaret!
Ba~dclai.re introduces into
the lyric the figure of sexual perversion that seeks its
.
~ I a.~
Figure of thc big city whose inhabitants arc frightened o f catlledra1s : "Vast Woods, )"Oll tCrrify me like cathedrals" ("Obscssioo").J' 1
[J21a,S)
"Lc Voyage" (sec. 7) : o;Come and revc1 in lhe swcet delight I of d ays where it is always afl"n,oo I " u~ f _ . I. Id to sce III · .me L emphasiS . o n this .. ." n u l l 100 vO tlme o f day Somcthing peculiar to the big city? [J2 Ia,6]
The hidden figutt that is the key to "Le Bako n": the night which holds the lavttS in its embrnCl! as, after day's departure, they dream of the d a\VTl, is starless"The night solidified intO a wall:'IlJ 1J2Ia.7) To the glance that encounters th e "Passante" contrast George's poem "Von einer Begegnung" <Encounter>:
"Naehtgeda nken " (Nighl Thoughl.$), by GQethe: " I pity yo u , unhappy sia n, I whl) lire 5U beliutifuJ and II.hine sl) l plt: ndidly. I gladly ~ illing the slr ugping SB ilor witb ,'()Ilr light , I uud yel Ilave III, rewa rd fronl gods 01" nu~n : I for yOIl do nut love , yo u 11I1l'" m:ver kno ...·n lov,.! 1 Ceaseleuly by everl utinS huu rs , yuur d ance is led ;I c rtl~~ the wid,. Ileavens. 1 11010" VlIsl II. jou rney yuu h ave. made alread y I since I, rep"sing in Illy liwecthcart 'll urmll, 1 forgot DI )' thoughts of yo u and of the lnidlIighl !"' ~' (j22a,l )
My glances drew me from the path I seek. And crazed with magic, mad to clasp, they trailed TIle slender bow sweet limbs in walking rurvcd, And \\"et with longing thm, they fd! and failed Befort: into your own they bold1y swerved.
Stefan George, Hymnrn; Pilg"janrtrn; Aigabal (Berlin, 1922), pp. 22-23,11' (]22,1] " 'The unexampled ogle of a whore ' glinting toward you like II silver ray , lite wavering moon releases on the l ake' :I1~ !IO begins tbe las t poem. And intu this extraordinary sta re, wltieh bring8 uncontrollable tears to the eyes of him who met:ts it without defenKe" Berg looked long and avidly. Fur him , however, 8S for Baudelaire, tile merct'.nllr y eye became a legacy of the prehistoric world. The arc-ligh t moon of the hig city 8.ltines for him like something out of the age of hetaerism. He neetb unly to ha ve it refte<:ted. as on a lake, and the b anal reno itself all the distant pas t; the ltineteenlh-century commodity betrays ill mythic taboo. It W88 in such a 81)irit lhllt Berg composetl Lulu,,'" Wiesengrund. Adom o. " Konze.rturie ' Der Weill,'" in Willi Reich , Albun Berg, with Berg's own writings aud with e.mtributions by Theo(lur Wicsengrund-Adurno a nd Ermt Krenek (Vierula .l..eipzig. Zurich <1937)), p . 106. [J22,2] What's with the dilation of the sky in M ayan's engraving?
"Le OrCpuscule du marin" ocrupies a cruciaJ position ~
[J'l'l.3]
The followin g argument-which dates from a period in which the decline of sculpture had become appartnt, evidently prior to the decline of painting-is very instructive. Baudelaire makes exactly the same point about sculpture from t.he perspective of painting as is made today about painting from the perspective of film . "A picture, however, is o my what it wants to be; there is no o ther way of looking at it than on its own terms. Painting has but o ne point of view; it is exclusive and absolute, and .therefore the painter's expression is much more forceful" Baudelaire, Onium, vol. 2, p. 128 ("SaJon de 1846"}. Just before this (pp. 127- 128): "The spectator who moves around the figure can choose a hundred different points of view, except the right one."'t' (Compare ~ J 4,7. [J22a,2) On Vir.tur Hugo, aro und HM·O: "At that sume period. be began to realize that if man is the 8ulitary animal, the solitary man is II man uf the cr owd s [p o39] .... It was Victur lIugo who gave Bautlelaire that sense of the irradia ntlife of the crowd , and who taught bim that ' multitude and solitude [are) equ al and interchangeable ler m ~ for the IJOet who is aeth'e and productive .... '1ft Nevertheleas, what a differen ce between the sOlilude which ti,e great a rtil t of spleen ehose for himself in Bnl ~!lCls in order ' to gain all inalienllble individualtrulU(uillity' and the solitude of the magus uf J er sey, hawlled ut that same moment hy shadowy apparitionl ! ... Hugo', solitude ill 1I0t au cuvdulte, II Noli mp.. tangere, a collcentration of the individ ulIl in ltis {Iifrerenee. It is . ra ther. a participation in the cosmic mYltery. an entry il1lU the realm of "rinlitive forces" (PII. 40-4 1). Gahriel Bounuure, ..Ahimes lif" Victor Hugo," MesureJ (July 15 , 1936), PI'. 3941. fj22a ,3]
us Fleur; ~u 11UJ~. The.
ax:
morning wind disperses the douds of myth. Hu.ruan b~gs ~d thClt afTaus exposed to view. The prerevolutionary da\VTl glimmers U1 this p OCIll. (In fact, was probably composed after 1850.) [J22,4]
The antithesis bet\\"een allegory and myth has to be dearly develo ped. It was owing to the genius of allegory that Baudelaire did not succumb to thc abyss of myth that gaped beneath his feet at every step. [J22.5] '''The depths heing the multitudes: VictOI' Hu!;o'& lJolitude I}("eoml'~ a lJolitud~ overrun , II iwo rminr; suli tude:' Gabriel Bounourc. "Ahinles (If' Victo r 1It1~~: " (l"I , IS 1936) . I). 39. The aulhor uniJeniCUres tite ('\(>mcnl of paJlBtVI Y " f:!$ ures . . [ 226) in Ungo'~ 1'''IH~l"ieIiCe of the l:ruwJ . J '
Froltl U. Collier des jOllrs (The Necklace of Days), vol. I , cited by ReillYde Gour1II01t1 in Jlldith Cail lier (Paris, 19().1), p. 15: " A rillg of the beU interrupted us and th(': lI. widlout a sound , a very singular IJerson I'nl ered the room anll made a . light ho.... of lhe hend . J had tlte impreuion of a priest without his cassock . 'Ah , her e's Balddariusl' eriell my fatber, t'xlelltling his hand to the nIlWcOnlt~r." Baudelaire u[ft'n; II gloutllYjt:81 on the 8uLjeci of Judith 'l nickname, " Ouragan" ( llurriea n e~. ]J23. 1] "A I 1111' "ufe caUt:tlthe Dh'ulI Le Pdt!tier, Theodore de BllllvilJe " 'uuld 8CC Balldelain· ~i llillg licn :e1y, ' Iike all a llgr y Goethe' (as he 8ays in a puc m). next 10
Apropos of " The greathearted servant . ." and the end of " I...e Voyage" ("'0 Death. oM capilli II • • • "), L . Doudet llpeaks of a ROll811rdhlll Right (in I.e Stupide XU.' Siede. p . 140). [J23,3]
..
" My flit her had ca ught a g1impl!e of Baudelaire. and he told me about lUll impre._ !lion: a hizarl'e lind alra bili ou~ prince among hoon. " LeO Ii Dandet , I~ Swpide .U X· Siede (J>ari~, 1922), p. I'U . [J23,4] Bautlelaire caUs Hugo a " genius without horders. "In
[j23,Sj
It is p~mably no accident that, in searching for a poem by Hugo to provide with a pendant, Baudelaire fastened on one of the most banal of the banal-" Les FantOmes." In this sequence of six poems, the first begins: "How many maidens fair. aJas! I've seen I Fade and die." The third: "One fonn above al1,-'twas a Spanish maid." And further on: "What caUS(:d her death? Balls, dances-dazzling balls; JThey filled her soul with ecstaSY and joy." This is fol1QY.'ed by the story of how she caught cold one mo ming, and eventually sank into the grave. The sixth poem resembles the close of a popular ballad: "0 maidens, whom such festivefiteJ decay! I Ponder the story of this Spanish ma.id ."I~' [J23,6]
"ee
With Baudelaire's "La Voix"
... what would beeome of poetry in pa88ing thrtlugh It head organi~t:d. for exampit". like tllat of Caligula or I:lelioKa halu8"' (p . 376).-"1'hIlB. likc the old Goethe who transformed himsdf illtn u seller of Turki~ h "ltllt.iJJeB in his Diuff11 ... , the author of Le$ FIe"rs du mat turned villainous, blasphcm ou ~. imllious for the 8ake of his thought" (PI' . 375-376). dulc8> UarlK:y d 'AureviUy. X IX Siecle: 1.e5 Oeu. IJre5 el, les homme" vol. 3, u s /Joete, (Paris, 1862). [J23a,l] ",\ critic (M . T luerry, in I.e Monilellr) malle the point recelltly in a very fine app reciation : to discover the parentage of this implacable poetry .. . one must go bar.k to Dante ... !"' (p. 379). This analogy Barbey make8 emphatically bis own : "Daute's muse looked dreamily 0 11 the Jnferno; tbat of I.e. Fleurs dll mal brealhCII it ill through innamel1 nostrilll, all a horse inhale8 811raPOel" (p. 380). Barbey d'Aurevilly, XIX' Sieele: l.es OeulJre, fll les homme-s, vol. 3. Le5 PoetflS (Pari8, 1862).
[J23a.2J
Barbey d 'Aurevilly on Dupont: "Cain triumphs over the gelitleAheI in this man'! talent and thinking-the Cain who i8 coarse, ravenous, envious, aud fierce, a nd ""ho hall gone to the cities to consume the dregs of al:cullIulated reSentments and share in the faille ideas thaI triumph there!" Barbey d ' Aurevilly, I.e XIX' Siecle: l.es OeUIJre5 et Ie, homme5, vol. 3, Le. Poete$ (Paris, 1862). p. 242 (<1M. Pierre Dupont "). [J23a,3]
Soon \\-ith that "oice confusedly combined, Two other voices, vagu~ and veiled, J find.
A manu8cril}! of Goethe's " Nachtgedanken" belln the notation, "'Modeled on the Greek . " [J23,,4j
And seemed eadl voic~, (hough mixed, distinct to be, As twO 0'05s-currents 'neath a strtam ),ou sec.
At the age of deven, Baudelaire experienced first hand the workers' rebellion of 1832 in Lyons. It appears that no trace remained in him of any impressions that event might have Id't U23a,5]
One from the seas-uiwnphant, blissful song! Voice of the waves, which talked themselves among; The otha, which from Lhe earth to heaven ran. Was fuU of SOrTOW-dl~ complaint of man. The poem takes, as its object, the dissonance of the second voice, which is set off against the hanno ny of the first. Ending: Why God . . . Jouu Ul dx: fatal hymn since earth began, The song of Nature, and dlC cries of man?I'J5
[j23,7j
bolutt!{1 ul'SI'rvatiuns from Burhl~ y IrAureviUy's " M. Charles Baudelaire": " . sCiUld.imes imagillt! ... lhat. if Timon of Alhem had had the genius of Arclwochus, lit: "","uld IlItve I)t>:eD a ble to write in this manner on IlIIman nature and to insult it wllilt" rem lering it!" (p . 381). "Conceive, if ),ou ""i11. a lallguage more "Iaslic than l)I)ctic. a langull!;I' hewn and "haped like bron:te a nd storm. ill ""hich uch phrase Ila ~ it/i vuiuttlli atlld fluting" (Jl. 37R). " 'fhi8 profound dreamer ... 811kl,.'( l him.!leLf
" One of lhe arguments he nlakes to his guardian . Allcelle, i8 ra ther curious. It see m~ 10 him that ' the new Napoleonic ~gime. after iIIustration8 dcpicting the hattlefield. ought to lleek illustrationll depicting thfl arls and leiters. , .. Alphonse Sec::he. La Vie des Fleurs du mal (Paris . 1928), p . 172. 1J23a.6]
The sense of "the abyssaJ" is to be defined as "meaning." Such a sense is always allegorical. [J24.1 ] With Blanqui, the cosmos has become an abyss. Baudelaire's abyss is starless; it should not be defined as cosmic space. But even less is it the exotic space of theology. It is a secularized space: the abyss of knowledge and of meanings. ~t constitutes its historical index? In Blanqui, the abyss has the historical Index of mechanistie natural science. In Bauddaire, doesn't it have the social index of nOulKt1.uli,1 Is not the arbitrariness of allegory a twin to that of fashion? Jj24,2 j
..
Explore the question whether a conncaion exists between the works of ~ ~e~ricaJ imagination and u:e .c0"~jpondancts. In any case, these are two whoUy disonct sources for Baudelam: s production. 'That the first of them has a very considerable share in dIe specific qualities of his poetry carulot be doubted. The nexus of meanings might be akin to that of the fibers o f spun yam. If 'Nt: can distUlbruish between spinning and weaving activity in poeLS. then the aUegoricai imagination must be classed with the fonner.-On the other hand, it is not impossible that the correspondences play at least some role here, insofar as a word, in iLS way, calls forth an image; thus, the image: could detemtine the meaning of the word, or else the word that of the image. [J24,3] D isappearance of allegory in Victor Hugo.
IJ".4]
Do f)owers lack sows? Is this an implication of the title LeJ F71!,m du maf? ln other words, are Bowers a symbol of the whore? Or is this title meant to recall Bowers to their true place? Pertinent here is the letter accompanying the two t.ripwCI.I/~
"Les Aveugles"
The reviews by <Bubey> d"Aurevilly and A8IIelineau were turned d own by Le PaY' aJI
The ramous statement by Valery on Baudelaire (seeJI ,l> g<xs back, in essence, to the suggestions Sainte-Bcuve sent to Baudelaire for his counroom derense. "In the field of poetry. everything was taken. Lam~ had taken the skies. Victor Hugo, the earth-and more dl3Jl the earth. Laprade, the rorests. Musset, the dazzling life o f passion and orgy. Others, the heanh, rura.llife, and so on. Theophile Gautier. Spain and iLS vibrant colors. What then remained? What Baudelaire has taken. It was as tllOUgb he had no choice in the matter.. . .tt Cited in Porche, Ln Vir doulourt uJe de Charll!J 8aucklairt <Paris, 1926>, p. 205. [J24a,5] Very plausible indication in Porclle to the effect that Baudelaire did not produce the many decisive variants lO his poems while seated at his desk. (See Porche, p. 109.) 1J2".6] " rUidius Ihtl poet one evening at a public hull . Ch arles Monselet acco&ted him: ' What a re yo u doing bere? '- 'My dea r feUow; replied Baudelaire. ' I'm wa tching the !leath's hea
" His ea rnings have been reckoned: the lotal ror his entire life docs nol exceed ixteen thouund rruncs. Calulle Mende. calculated that the a utllor . . . would have received about one rranc seventy centimes pt."r day as payment for his liter ary laOO,.. . ., Alphonse seehe, La Vie del Fleur. du mot «Arnicn B,) 1928), p. M . IJ25.2] According to Se<:he, Baudelaire's aversion 10 a sky that was " nlllcb too blue"--()r ralher, much too bright-would have come from his stay on the island of ft-lauri " tiU!. (See See-iIe, p. '~2 .) (J25.3J S~h e illH:.uks
of a pronflullced similarity between Baudelaire's letteTi to Mlle. Daubrun and his lellen to Mme. Sabaticr. (See p. 53 .) [J25,4)
According to Sech6 (p . 65). ChHmpfleury would huve taken pari with Baudelaire ill the foumling of ~ Snt/lt public. [J25.5] rrar{JJul till the pe riod a.1'OlIlId 1845: " We ullderstood lillie of thl! use fir tables ror working, Ihinking, I!o mpu~ illg .... For my part . J Ila .... Ililll composing verses on the rUII .... hill! he was out in the Sircelll: I never SIlW him scaled before a ream of []25.6] paper." Cit I'll in Sl:cilc, 1,,(,1 1'ie ties Fleurs du IIIfll(1928), p . 84. T he way Baudelaire prei'ented himsel£ tlnring his Br\lsMeI~ lectuTt· on Cuutier, a& descrihed "y CarniHe Lenmlluit'r ill I .AI 1';~ bel8e: "Baudelaire mude olle think of II. mall or the church , wilh those beuulirul gCJ;;lIIres or the pulpit. His ljortlinen cuffs
•
]
1.
Rulle,"c,1 like the 81eevell of u c1eri.:ul frock. He de ve loped hill 8ILbjecl witll lUI U IIll U~ 1 evn n sclil'a lll1u: llluu8 m~Si, proclaimiug I,j ~ venerlltiun for u lite ra ry mu ~ l er in the Liturgical tone&of II liillli" " Illlnoundng II mundale. To hirU8elC, 110 d ouht . he WU8 celc bntiu j!; II Musil full of g10riuulI images; he had the grave beauty..,f a curdiu81 of \ell en uffi ciating at the uh ar of the Ideal. His .!Inloolh. pule "i!lage 10'118 shaded in the ha lft une uf the lamplight. I watched lUll eyes move like hlack s un.!!. His mo uth hUll II Ufe of i18 oWn within the life a nd exprell8ion~ of his (aer'; it W88
tbin and quivering witb II delica te vibrancy under the drawn bow of hi. word8. And £rom i1 8 ha ughty height the head commllnded the attention of the intimidated audience." Ciled in Seche. La Vie des FleurJ du mal ( 1928), p. 68. (J2S,7J Baudelaire transferred his application for the playwright Scril)t!', 8eal in the. Academic Frall ~ai8e to Ihal of IIle Catholic priest Laconlaire. (J2Sa,1] Cautier: " Baudelaire loves ample polysyllabic words . a nd with th ree or four of these words he sometimes fa shions lines of verse. that seem immense, lines that rceOllll.te in II tlc.h II way as to lengthen the meier." CitCiI in A, Sechti, La Yw del f'lellr~ tIll mal «Amiclls,) 1928), p, 195 , [J2Sa,2] Gautier: " To the extent that it was possible, he hani s llt~d elOI.luclICe ill poetry." Cited in A, Sechii, La Vie des FleU r! du mal (1928), p , 197, [J2Sa,3] E. Faguet in an article in La R evue: "Since 1857, the nellrasihellia among U 8 h88 8carC1'. ly abaled; a ile 1:(lIlld even say thai it has been on the rise. Hence, ' there ill no cause for wonder.' al RODsant once said , Ihal Bauddaire I t ill hill his follow· e ra. , .. " Cited in Alphonse Stich", La Yle des f'leurs du mal ( 1928), p , 207. [j25',4j
Le f'isl.ro IJUblishes (dale?) an article by Gustave Bourdin that was written at the instigation of Interiur Mini81er Rillaut. The lauer bad shortl y before, a8 judge or publi('" pro8e(:utor, suffered a setback with the acquittal of Flauhert in tbe trial against Maritim e Bovo ry. A few daYI la t!!r came Thierry's article in Le Moniteur. " Why clid Sainte-Relive . .. leave it to Thierry to tell readers of I.e Monitellr ahuut I.e.~ f'lellrs c/u "!(II? Sointe--Beuve doubtless refuled to write ohout 8oudf'loire', hook bccll:u;;e he deemed it more pnldent 10 efface the ill c.freet hi8 articIe on fthu/(lnle /I(Hmry Il od hall in the inner circIell of the. government. " Alphonse S(>che . W Viedl!l Fte ur~ dll /llill ( 1928).lJp. 156- 157. 121 (J2Sa,S]
1be denunciation in Bourdin's article is treacherously d isguised as praise for precisely those poems singled out in the indicnnent. After a disgusted enumeT3tionorBaudelai.re's topics, he writes: "And in the middle of it all, four poems-'Le Reniement de Saint Pierre,' then 'woos; and ty,·o entitled 'Femmes damnees'four masterpieces of passion, of art, and of poetry. It is understandable that a poet of twenty might be led by his imagination to ueat these subjeclS, but nothing
excuses a man over tJlirty who foislS such monstrosities on the public by means of a book." Cited in A1phonse seche, La Vie de; Fl~rs du mal (1928), p. 158. {J2Sa.6] From Edouanl Thierry'e review of Lei Fle"rs dll mal in Le MOflireur (July 14, IUS??): " The Florentine of old wOIII.1 8 l1r~ l y recognize. in this French poel of today, th!! rhara el ~rifl ti c ardor. the terrifyinl; utterance. the ruthlt!lll imagery, and the sonori ty of his braten lines .... I leave hi8 book and hill talent uoder Dante's stern warning. " 1# Ci ted in Alphonse Si!ehe , I.e Vie des FleUr, du mal (1928). PI" 160-161.
1J26.IJ
Baudelaire's great dissatisfaction with the frontispiece d esigned by Bracquemond according to spcci6cations provided by the poet, who had conceived this idea while perusing Hyacinthe Langlois' HiJtQir~ des dnnses marabm. Baudelaire's instructions: "A skeleton turning into a tree, with legs and ribs fanning the trunk, the anus stretched out to make a cross and bursting into leaves and buds, shdteI'ing several rows of poisonous planlS in little polS, lined up as if in a gardener's hothouse." (See j16,3.) Bracqucmond evidently runs into difficu1ties, and moreover misses the poet's intentio n when he masks the skeleton's pelvis with Bowers and fails to give ilS anns the form of branches. From what Baudelaire has said, the artislsimply does not know what a squdette arborescent is supposed to be, and he can't conceive how vices are supposed to be represented as Bowers. (Cited in Alpbonse 5eche, La Vie des FleurJ du mo./ [(Amiens,) 19281, pp. 136-137, as drawn from letters.) In the end, a portrait of the poet by Bracquemond was substiruted fOT this planned image. Something similar resurfaced around 1862, as fuulet·MaJassis was planning a luxury edition of UJ F7nm du mal. He commissioned Bracquemond to do the graphic design, which apparently consisted of decorative borders and vignettes ; emblematic devices played a majoT role on these. (See 5eche, p. 138.)- The subject that Bracquemond had failed to ttnder ~Y3.S taken up by Rops in the frontispiece to UJ Epaues (1866). U26,2] List of reviewers for Les Fleurs du mal, wilh the ncwllp apers Baudelaire had in min{1 for thf'm : Bulot, Lacaussade. Gu stave Rowand (La Revue europeenne); Co:tlan (Le Monde illu~lre): Sainte-Reuve (I.e Moniteur): Dellchanel (Le J ourna l de; rleblm): Aurcvilly (1.£ 1'(1 ),'); j llllin (I.e Nord): Armand Fraisse (Le Salut public d e L,.orlj); GuUinguer (u. Ca:eltfl de f'rllflce). (Acco["ding to Secht'i, .~ .)
~~
The publication rightll ror Rl.ltldelllirtl'~ clltirl' ot'lI vre were a m:lioned uftcr bis {J26,4] ,Icath to Mkhcl LCvy for 1.750 rrance. T h!! ''1'ablea u~ PurisielU' " ul'l'l~a r onl y with tile tecoml t'dilion \Jr I.e Fkurs du mol. 1126 .5)
T he tlelinilh'e title for the hook was pr(ll)Osed by Uiplffil yte Babuu in the Cafe
LamLlin .
(J26a,I)
t't Ie erune" (Eroll and the SkuU ), " Tllis PUCIII (If Baudelaire's Wa& inspired by IWO works of thc eugruvcr Henri Gohzius." Alphouse Sedll~ , La V'ae det! Fleurs du mal « Amiclls,) 1928). p . III . [J26a,2)
" L'Amour
., A Ulle Passaute." " M . Crcpet mcntions as possible source a pasijage from "Dina , la Lelle Juive.' in Petrus Borel '~ Champa vert ... : ' For mc. the tllOught that Ihill lightoing fla d l tllal dazzled UJ; will never be seen again. .; thai two uislcnce& made . . . for huppillcss together , in this life allli in eternity, ure forever sun_ dered . _ . -for me, this thought is profouudl y saddening. ", Cited in A. S~b c, La Vie des Fleur$ du mol, p . 108. [J26a,3J " n eve parisien." Like the speaker in the poo.m . COlldantin Guys also rose at nOOD; hence. accurwng to Baudelaire (Ieu cr of March l3, 1860, tn Puulel-Malassia), the dedication . I!? [J26a,4) BautleJaire (where?),Jlj poinb to Ihc third hook of the Aeneid all source for "Le Cygne. ,. (See Sccile, p. 104.) [J26a,5]
(n HonDeur, lIe had bung two ,'aintillgll .. ver his bed , One of them. painted by his father as pendant 10 the other, showed an amorolls scene: the other, dating from an earlier time, a Temptatioll of Sa int Anthon y. In the center of the lir.st pi.clure. a lnlCdulllte, [j27,2] "Sand is inferior to Sa de!"I~1
" We ensur e. that our confessions are well rewarded"l32-this should be compared with the practice of his leiters. [J27,4] Se.illiere (p. 234) cites
0 11 Delacroix (according 10 Seillier e. p. Il4): " Delacroix is the artist best etluipped to portray modern woman in her heroic manifestations. whether these he understood in the divine or the infernal sense. , .. It seems that sucb color thinks for ilself, illdependently of the objects it clothes, The effect of the whole ia aimosl musical. "111 [J27.6) Fourier is said to have presented his " minute discoveries"
To the right of the barricade ; to the lcft of the barricade. It is very significant that, for large portions of the middle classes, there was only a shade of difference: between these two positions. TIlls changes only with Louis Napoleon. For Bauddaire it was possible (no easy trick!) to be friends with Pierre Dupont and to participate in the June Insurrection on the side of the proletariat, while avoiding any sort of run-in when he encountered his friends from the Ecole Nonnande, CheIU1evieres and Lc Vavasseur, in the company of a national guardsman.-It may be recalled, in this context, that the appointment of Genera1 Aupick as ambassador to Constantinople in 1848 goes back to Lamartine, who a t that time was minister of foreign affairs. [J26a,6} Work on LeIS Fleurll du nml Ul' through the fi rst edition : fifl een years.
[J27.3]
100
" pompously. "134 [J27,7]
Scillicre represents as his particular object of study what in general detomincs the standard for the literature on Baudelaire: "It is, in effect, the theoretica1 conclusions imposed on Charles Baudelaire by his life experiences that I am particularly concerned with in these pages." Ernest Scilliere, Baudekire (Paris, 1931 ), p. 1. [J27,8] Eccentric behavior in 1848: '''They've jusl arreKted de F1otte; he said. ' Is it because his hands smelled of gunpowder ? Smell mine! '" Seillier e, Balldelaire (Paris. 1931), p. 51. [J27,9)
1126 .,7]
Proposa l of a Brussels pharmacist to POuICI-Malassis: in excha nge for a commitment to buy 200 copies. he would he allol'l'cc\to advertise 10 readers, in the back pages of LeIS Paradis nrtificiels. a hashish extract preJlarcd by his firm. Baudelaire's veta won onl with tlifficult y. [J26a,8j
Seilliere (p. 59) rightly contrasts Baudelaire's postulate, according to which the advent of Napoleon HI is to be interpreted in de Maistre's sense as "providential," with his comment: "My rage at the coup d'etat. H ow many bullets I braved ! Another Bonaparte! 'What a disgracel " Both in "Mon Coeur rIDs n u."llj [J27.,I]
From
The book by Seilliere is thoroughly imbued \'lith the position of its author, who is p.resident of the Academic: des Sciences M orales et Politiques. A typical premise: .. fbe social question is a question of mora1ity" (p, 66). Individual sentences by Baudelaire are invariably accompanied by the author's marginal glosses. [J27a.2)
a
t.
Hourdin : 1001~ in ·J Mw of V. .lle melllant. Le Figura i.n 1863 publishe& II viole nt auack by POlilmli rtin on 8audelaire. I.n 1864, he hal l!! publication of till" Peti'll PoemCII C it prose ufte r two insta llme nt8. VillemC88a nt : " Your poem, bo re everybod y." Sf*Fralu;o ill l"orclll! . La Vie dou/rmreuse tie Chartell Bfllldeluire (lieriCII c ntilled I.e Rmll(lll dessrmu/ell f!xiJten CCII, vol. 6) ( Parill <1926,), p . 2(. 1. [J21a.3}
pontmar tin in hi' critique. of the porlrait or Baudelaire b y Nargeol : " T hi, engraving Sh OWli lU U face Ihal is hngga rll . Minisler. ravaged . a nd malign ; it is the face of a hero of the Court I)f Assize!!, or Ilf u pt'llsiunt'cr from Bicetre." Comlmre B2a,6 (Vischcr : Ihe "freshly heheaded" look). [J28.S]
On Lamartine: " A bit of II 8trumpd. II bit of II .... bore.'· Cited in Fr a n~o is Porche, La Vie doulourewe de Charlell Baudelaire (IICrieti entitled Le ROnlan de,sronder eximmces, \' 01. 6) (Pans). p . 248. (J27il,4]
Adverst' criticism frum BrulleLiere in 1887 and 1889. In 1892 and 1893 come the currectionil. The sC(luelu:e : Questions de critique (J lUle 1887); Eu ui , uria 'ittera_ ture conlemporaille ( 18.89); NOUueflllX Eu ais ,ur la lillerfllure conlemporain.e ( 1892); Evolution de la poesie iyr iqlte en Fran ce (l 893). '" [J28.6]
Relalioll to Victor Hugo: " !'Ie bad solicited from him II prcJllcr to the stud y on Gautier, aud . ....ith the aim or forcing Victor Hugo'. hand. bad even dedicated &ome ltoen.! to him ." Fran~ois Por chi:, La Vie douiourewe de Charle, Baudelaire (series entitlet.l Le Roman de, g nJnfles exutences, vol. 6) (Paris), p. 251. [J27a.SJ Tide of the first publication of pieceli from Lu Paradis artificieb in La R evue contemporaine, 1858: " De I' ldeal artificiel"
Physiognomy of Baudelaire i.n lue la&! yea,..: " He has all aridity in aU bi.e features ",·Iuch contrast! aha rpl y wit h the in tenlJily of hie look . AJ)ove aU. he has that eet t~ his lip ~ which indicates a moulh 10115 acc ustomed 10 ,:bcwing only as hes." Fran ~oi, Porche, La Vae t/oulollre.lloJe de Charier ROllde.hlire (series entitled Le Roman de~ grande, exj~ l e.nces . vol . 6) (Paria ~ 1926» , p. 29 1. [J28,7] I H6 l. Suicidal i~"uJees. Arlelle Houssaye of iAl R evue cOIlle.rnporain learns that ~ome or the. Petit" Poemes en pro~e apllearing in his journal have already appeared m the La R eVile jClIIlaisiste. Publication il lIul pended ._La Revue des deux mondes rej ectJI the euuy on GUYII.-f...e Figart) brings it out wilh an "editorial nott'" hy Bourdin . U28,8}
Firlit Iet:lures in Belgium : DeJacroix, Ga ntier.
The t\linist? of the In terio r refulel
10 ill/ille
[J28a, IJ it. 8tam" to Le, Puradi. arrificie/S , {]28a,2]
"Note that this innovator has not a single Dew idea . M ter Vigny, one must wait until Sully-P r udhomme to find new ideal in a French poet. Baudelaire never entertains anythuig but the mOil threadba re platitudes. Ue is the poet of aridity and banality. " Benediction": the artist here below is a martyr. "L'Albatros"~ tbe artist flounders in reality. " Les Pharell": artists are the beacons of humanh y. •. . Brunctiere is surely right : there ia nothing more in "Une Cbarogne" than the wonlM of Ecclesiasticll8, ' With aU Resh , OOlh m aD aDd beast , ... are death and bloodshed ...•I ]: Emile Faguet, " Baudelaire," La Revue, 87 (19 10). p . 619. [J28, I}
Porche (p. 233) points out that Baudelaire throughout his life retained the mindset o f a youn~ man of. good family. -Very instructive in this regard: "In every change there IS some.thing a~ once: vile and agreeable, some element of disloyalty and restlessness. 'Ibis suffioentJy explains the French Revolution." '~ The senti. :~t r:ecalls Proust-who was also ajilJ dtJamdl,. The historical projected into e mtnnate. [J28a,3]
" He has almost no imagination . His inspiration iii amazingly meager." E. Faguet, " Baudelaire," t o Revue, 87 ( 19 10), p . 616. {j28,2]
~h'eting between Bi lldeillire and ProudhOIl in jla~y newspalJer, l.-e Rcpre,elltfJIlf till. [Jell/lIe.
(See. Porche, p . 226.) Whlltlloc@ lilu signiCy?
1IIt'Ir
fa guet drawll a comparillou between Scnancuur and Bamltdai rt.,--whul's I"ure, in fta vu r of the form e.r. [J28,3]
J .-J . Wein (Revue cOluempoNline, J anuary 1858):
"Tlli ~
line uf venit' ... rcsemhies one lIf tllUse spinning tops tllat wouJd hum in the guller." Ciled in Camille Vl: r~i ul. "Cintluaulc ans aprel Baudelaire," RClme fie Pari", 24th year ( 1917). p . 687 . {j28,4]
having dinner lugeLhcr 011
lIu'
1848 at Ih~ offices of Proudhon ', A chance encounter, it end, with Roe Nt:llve- Vi vil'nne. [J28a,4]
The hypothesis thai Baudelaire, in 1848, helped to found the conservative newspaper Le &priJtnlant dt I'/ndrt (later ed ited by Poomy) comes from Rene Johannct. The. newspaper supported the candidacy of Cavaignac. Baudelaire's :Ila?ora~on at that mo~eOl, assuming it took place at aU, may have involved a ystificaoon. Without his knowledge, his trip to Clclteau roux was subsidized through Ancelle, by Aupick. [j28a.Sj
.~
l.
According 10 r..., OQntt:c, the Aecond tercet of "Sed Non Satial,," i!l in !lome Ilegree [J28a.6J linked ttl " 1~8 I A·~ bi c "n ..s."
prt!!lSe8 . . . . AU machinery is lIacred , like a work of 1101'1" (cited in Pord,,! . p. 129).-Comllare " the blootly MPlmratlll1 of Deslructiun ."I ~ [J29.7)
By 1843 . Itecorlling alrcucly writh!lI .
1849: u RepriJenJanl de I'llidn. Baudelaire's participation nOt established with certainty. If the article
til
Prllrolld .a great '"any poems from Le Flellrl du lTI(.Ilwere [J28a,7]
to 1845.
Mill(: Gold·Bug" is translated by Alphonse Borghers as "Le Scarabtt d 'or," in La Rroue bdlannique. The next year, La Qyotidjarru: publishes an adapta· tion, signed by initials amy, of "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," wherein Fbe's name goes unmentioned. Decisive for Baudelaire, according to Asselineau, was the tranSlation of "The Black Cat" by Isabelle Meunier, in La Dimocyah'e pacifique (1847) . Characteristically eno ugh, the first of Bauddairr:'s translations from Poe, to judge by the d ate of publication guly 15, 1848), was of "Mesmeric Revela· tion.1t [J28a,8]
1855: Baudelaire writea Daulirun .
II
leiter to George Sand, interceding on behalf of Marie [J28a,9]
"AJwItY8 vcry politc. \'f~ry huughty. anti very unctuous at tbe sam e time, tbere was ahollt him somelhuig reminiscent of the monk , I)f tile suldier, and of the cII!lnlulJOlitan ." Judith Cladel, Bon$hommell (pllris, 1879), cited in E. and J. Cr epd, Charks BOlldeloire( Pa rill, 1906), p . 237 . (J29, 1)
In his " Notes t'! t dQCumellts pour nion a vocat ," Baudelaire refcn to the letters on art and morality which 8alzac addrelUie4110 H..ippolyte Castille ill the new. paper La Semlline. ,.... [J29,2] Lyo ns is noted for its truck
fo~ .
In 1845, apparent suicide allcmpt: knife wound in the chest.
newspaper is not o ut of the question.
[J29.8)
1851: with DUllOnt and La Ch amhaurlie. La Republique du peupk. democratic almanac; "Editor, 8audelair.:." Only "L' Ame elu vin"
[A
Se maine. lhiu;lrak.
[J29.1O]
February 1854-
Hotel de York , R.ue Sainte-Anne
_Ma y
Hotel ..III Marm;, Rue de Seine
1858
Hotel Voltaire, Quai Voltaire
December 1858
22 Rile Beautreillis
Summer 1859
Ha lel de Dieppe. Rue d ' Amsterdam [J29. 11 ]
At the age of twenty·seven. Haudelaire was gray al the lemples.
Jj29,12]
From Charles AlISelilieall. Baudelaire: Recueil J 'Anecdotes (in Crepet, Charles Baudew.ire [Paris. 1908].
[J29.3] [J29.4]
" It is " artly a life of leisu re tliat has enabled me to grow. -To my veat dctrimelli- for leisure without fortlill e breetls deb ts .... But also 10 my grea l profit , 118 rcgards sensibilit.y and meditation .... Other men of leiters are, for the 01 081 part , base ignorant drudges:'lu Ciled in Porche,
From Gautier's obituary for Ba udelaire. Le Moniteur. Seplember 9 , 1867: '"&rn in India , and ImSse8~in g a thorough knowledge of the English language, he made his debllt with his tra nslations of Edgar Poe." Thwphile Gautier. Porlraits con[J29a,2] temllQrairu (Paris, 187-1), )1 . 159. A good ha lf OfGalltier'H obituary notice ill occu)1ied with Poe. The part de\'ote4l lo Le8 "'wurs (/u m(J/ dept!llds 011 metaphors which Guutier exlracts from a ~ Iory by IJll wthorne: " We never read /..e. Flel~rs du, mul. by Blludelairt', without thinking inVOluntarily of thut talc by Hllwlhornc (t'.lIlhled " Uappaccini"s Daughter"): it has those 80mber ami ru rla Uic rlllol"8 . those verdigris hlossoms and heady l)6rfullle8. IUs II1I1;;e "escmhl('s the dm:lur's dllllghier whllnl no poison fla il harm. lmt ,,·llOse pallid and anemic complexion betr/ly~ t.l1I~ innucllet" of !lIe milieu she iuhabitN." 'l'h~phile Gautier. PorfrfJit~ contemrlOr(lins (paris, 1.874), p . 163. <See J3a ,2.) 112901.3)
Gautier's characterization of Baudelaire, in his Hutoire du Rrnnantisrne, is not much more than a successio n of questionable metaphors. "TItis poet's talent for
-
concentration has caused him to reduce each piece to a single drop of essence enclosed in a crystal Bagon cut with many facets ," and so on (p. 350). Banality JX:rvades the entire analysis. "Although he loves Paris as Balzac iovt:d it; although, in his search for rhymes, he wanders through its most sinister and mysterious lanes at the hour when the reflections of the lights change the pools o f rainwater into pools of blood. and when the moon moves along the broken outline of the dark roofs like an old yellow ivory skull; although he stops at times by the smo ke-dimmed windows of taverns, llitt:ning LO the croaking song of the drunkard and the strident laugh of the prostirute, . .. yet very often a suddenly recurring thought takes him back to India." Theophile Gautier, Histoirt! du Romanlismt (Paris, 1874), p. 379 ("u Progres de la poCsie fran~e depuis 1830"),1'"
Compare Rollinat!
I'orclu! (p. 98) .lrawJ:I allclltioll 10 tile flll:1 thill, wilh Sal;)!; . Ancellc, and Aupiek . IJa ud r.lairr hall relatiollil of a typical sort. [J30,111
Sexual preoccupations, as revealed by the titles of projected novels : "Les En· seigneme.nts d'utl monstre" <Education of a Monster>, "Une Inmme ador&:"
1J29a,4J
Interior or the Hotel Pimodan : 110 sideboard , no dining rOOlD table. (rosled gla88 panes. AI that pllint , Baudelaire had II servant. [j29a.,5]
185 1: new poema in l..e Meu{Jser de l 'AlllembIee, The Saint-Simonian Revue politiqlte IOrnR ,Iown hll! monuRcriptll. Porche rema rkR that it looks very much III though Uoudelaire was 1I0t really able to choose where 10 publiah . [J30,1] The (ortune Baudelaire inherited in 1&12 lotaled 75.000 (ranCII (in 1926, equivaleut ttl 'LSO,OOO francs) . To hiR colleaguea-Banvilll"--he passed (or " very ricb ." B e loon aft erward dillereetJ y left home. (J30.2]
AI! Porche nicely putfl it
T he ban1lueu urgauiu d by Philoxcne Doye r. Baudelaire give;! reading. of "Une C ha roKJI ~.·' " Lf. ViII de " UlIBiIlIin," " Delphine el llipI'olyte" (Porche .
«La
Vie dolt[Qltreuse de ChMies Baudelaire [Paris, 19261,) p . 98}, Ancell", wall Iheemhodimcnt of the " legal world ." U30.SJ
J ourney to Bordeaux in 1841 by stagecoach, one of the last.-A very severe stonn Baude1aire went through on board the ship commanded by Captain Saliz, the Paqllebot tUJ Mm du Sud, appears to have left little trace in his work. (J30,4] Baudelai re's mother waR twent y-six al1ll biA fath er sixty wbell tJley married in 1819. [J30~]
Consider thai Baudelaire not infrequently, it appears, loved to humble himself in long conversations with Ance11e. In this, too, he is ajilJ tUfamiIJe. More along these tines in his farewell letter: "I shall probably have to live a very hard life, but I shall be better off that way."'u [J30, 13] Clade! mentiuns a " n oble and transcentleol disserta tion·' by Baudelaire on the phYKiognomy of language. having to tlo with the colors o( word8, their peculi arities aM sourct!Bof light, and finally thdr moral characteristic,. [j30a,l ]
Indicative of a perhaps not Wlcommon to ne in the exchanges between the two writers is ChampHeury's letter of Mardt 6, 1863. Baudelaire, in a letter now lost, had declined CharnpHeury's proposal to meet a female admin:r of the Flt!urJ du mal and the writings of Poe, making a point of hi! dignity. ChampBeury responds: "As for my compromised dignity, I refuse to hear orit. Stop frequenting places of far worse repute.1i-y to imitate: my life of hard work; be as independent as I am ; never have to depend o n others-and then you can talk about dignity. I The word, in fact, means nothing to me, and I put it down to your peruJiar ways, which are both affected and natural" (cited in E. and]. C~pet,
u
Hugo to Baudelaire, August 30 , 1857. 1·le acknow led ge~ r eceipl of Le, "'/eur, du In tbe Hotel Pimorian , Baudelaire wrote with a red goose quill .
[J30,O]
" Mesmcrie Revelation." certainly nol Ollt: o( Poe', nlOre Ilistinguishcd wo rks , ill the only 8tory to be tran slated by Haliliciaire during the Amerif'a ll author's lifetjme. 1852: Pot: hiogra ph y ill La. Revue de Pnru . 1854: heginning oftllf' Iranslatioll work . !J30,7J
Ili ~
fle lll" (I" ma { are as r atlial1l a nd da:u.ling as the starl." Ciled in Crelte t . p . 11 3. Conlpare the greal leiter of Oclober 6. 1859, containing the forowla and credo of !Jr0grflSI;. [J30a,3J
!J30.8J
r'uu l dt MoienCIi to Bau delaire. May 14 , 1860. " You Il ave lhiK gift for Ihl' new. sOlUething tba l lIas always liI'emcd to me 1'~'Ci o llJi--i",Iet:11. almo&1 sacred ." Cited ill Crfpel. p . 4 13 . [J30a,4]
1II111 hcr ill till; Lou vre .Iu ring tltt: yeun of ,lis8cm. i(JII with Aupick . ]J30,9]
Ange Pcchlll~ia, Bucharest. February 11 - 23, 1866. In this lo ng letter full of great admiration, an cx.act outJook on la fHJ6 il! pure: "'I would say something more: I
h should bt: remembered thatJeanne Duval was BaudeJa.ire's first love. Mc¥ling;; wilh
lIIai. " Art iii like the heavens; it is Ibe infilljte fidd . You have just proved Ihat. Your
:un convinced that, if the syllables that go to fonn verses of this kind were to be t:ranslatcd by the geometric fonns and subtle oolors which bdong to them by analogy, they would possess the agreeable texture and beautiful tints of a Persian carpet or Indian shaw!. I My idea will strike you as ridiculous; but I have often fdt Like drawing and coloring your verse?' Cited in Crepet, p. 4 15. 1J30a,5] Vigny 10 Blludelaire. J anuary 27 , 1862: " How ... unjust you are, il ilet' mi to me, towll rd this iuvely bouquet , AO variously scented with odors of ~ pring, fur h aving given it a title it does not d eserve, IIlld how much I Ile plore tha t poisonous air which you sometimes in from the murk y hourne of U ll llll et '~ graveyard ." Ciled ill Cr epet , p. 44 1, [J30a,6}
I,."e
From the letter thai Baudelaire !!ent to Empress Eugenie, No,'ember 6, 1857: " But the fine, lncre-ased by COilll that are unintelligible to mr, t-xct.-edi the resoun::el of the proverbial povert y of poets, and , , .• convinced that the heart of the Empreu is opt'n to pity for all tribulations, slliritual as well as material, I bave conceived the idea . Jter a perioll of illdt.'Ci8ion and timidit y that lasted ten days, of appealing to the gracious goodness of your Majesty and of entreating yOllr inten'ession with the minis ter of justice."H: H . Patry, " L' Epilo~e du pruccl! des 1-'Leur. till rnal: Une Leu rt' inMite de Baudelaire I'lmpcratrice ," Relme d'llilHoire litteraire de /a Fran ce. 29uI year (1922), p. 71. [l3 t ,1]
a
From Sch ll unard , Souvenirs (Paris , 1887): "' I detest Ihe countryside.' !ay. Baudelai re in explanation of hi, ballty Ileparture from Iionfleur, ' particularly in @ood weather. The penilltenl SWlBhiue oppresaes me .... Ah! speak to me of thOle everchanging Parisian s kies Ihat laugh or cry accor lling ttl the wind , and that never, in their va ria ble hu t and humidity, hal'e any effect on the iilupid cropl, . , , I am perhaps affrontin g YOllr com'ictioll~ as a landllcape painter, but I must t~ YOII further ulal an open hod y of water is a monstrous thing to me, I want It incarcerated , l;ontaincd within tim geometric walls of a Ilu ay. My favorite walkilll "lace is the embankment alon g the Canal de l'Ourcq , .. (cited in Crc" et , p . 160).
1J31,2) Cri:I)Ct juxtaposes Schaunard', rt' Jlort with the leU('r to Desnoyers, IlIId then ~ mark, in clo!fing: " What ran we cOllclude from all thil? Perhaps simpl y that Baudela ire belonged to that famil y or unfortunates who desir.. onl y what they do not haye and IOl'e only the place wlit'.&"e they a re not" (C repet , p . 16 1). [J3 1,3} Baudelaire's ~incerile wus form er ly much to he found in Crcpet (see p . -172).
di~clis81~11. Trol;l!s of this dchatc arc still
little acr aps of men- that iI. t l.l budding S lt t an ~." " De l'Euellce d ll rire." OClulre" [J3 1,S] ..-d . Le Dantt'1;, vI.Il. 2, p . 174 .·....
~t knew ange~, and also tears; he did not laugh. Vtrginic 'NOuld not laugh at the Sight of a cancature, The sage does not laugh, nor d oes mnoce:nce. "The comic clemenr is a damnable thing, and o ne of diabolical origin." "De l'Essence du rite," OeuureJ, ed. uDantec, vol, 2, p. 168. lIt fj3la,11 Baudelaire distinguishes the "significative comic" from the "absolute comic" Th latter alone is a proper object of reflection: the grotesque, I~ rj3 1a'2~ A111:gorical interpreta ti un of modern clothi.ng fur mcn , in the "Salon de J846": "A. for the garb , the out~r Ilusk . of the modern hero, ... is itnolthe necessar y ~arb or our suffering age, which w~a rs the synlllOl of l)Crpetlial mou r ning even on itt thin black 5houldcrl? Notice how the black ~ uit and l he frock l;l.Iat POSSesli not 001 their Iw litical beaut y, which is ao expression of uni" eraal equality, bUI als6 tbl!i~ IJOetie heauty, which is an r:xpression or the public souJ...-an endle.!!! proceniun of hired mournera, political mourners, amorous mourners, bourgeois mournera. We are all of 1111 cele brating lome fun er al. " Oeu vres , ed . Le Dantcc, vol . 2, It. 134.1$1
[J".,3)
~e incomparable force of Poc's descriptio n of the crowd. One thinks of early Iith~phs by Senefelder, Like. ""Der Spieldub" (The Players' Club~, "Die Menge nach Einbruch der ~eIhel~
"Ima~natioll
is not fantasy . . . . Imagination ill till almost djvine fa culty which pe rcelYes ... the in timate and secret N:lalion8 of things. tI.e correslKmdence8 a nd th~ aoalogie~."
{J31,4}
"'1'11 .. laughter of children is like the blonoming of a Howcr.... It is a plant .~e joy. Alld 1'0. in grnt" ral. it ill more like a s mile--tlomt"l.hing analogou.!! to the w-a~n, of II llo&'. tail . or the purri ng of II cat . Aud if t1u~r(" still rt:llIai n$ sam.. d u.tincuo n bel .... ~ n the la ughter of children and such e:"pn::88ions of a nimal contentment , ... IILi ~ is IJet'allse their laughtcr i.. 1I0t entirely frile of ambition , a~ iii onl y prolJtlr tl.l
Concerning the. conception of the crowd in Victor Hugo, two very characteristic passages from " La Perue de 1a reverie" (The Propensity fo r Reverie):
Crowd without name! Ch aos!-Voiccs, eyes, footsteps. Thwe never S«n, thme lteVe:r known. Alllhe Iiving!-cities buzzing in the car More than any beehive or American woods.
The following passage shows the crowd depicted by Hugo as though with the burin of an engraver: TIle night with its crowd, in this hideous dream, Came on-growing denser and darker tOgether-And, in these regions which no gaze can fathom, The increase of men meant the deepening of sbadow. All became vague and uncertain; only a breath That from moment 10 momen! would pass, As though to grant me a view of the. great anthill, Opened in the far-n::aching shadow some valleys of light, A! the wind that blows over !he tossing waves VVhitens the foam, or furrows the wheat in the 6dds.
"The life of Bau.telaire iJ a deject for ane<:dotel." Andre Suares. n-oiJ GrtmdJ Vivant.! (Paris), p . 270 ("Oamlelaire et LeJ FkILr.! du mar). [J32a,3) " Baudelaire does 1101 deecribe." Andre Suares, p. 294 ("8audelaire et ~J Fk lLrJ d" nwr').
Victor Hugo, Oeuurts comp/au, PoiJie, vol. 2 (UJ Orientaiel, &uiiieJ d'automne) (Paru, 1880), pp. 363, 365-366. 1132,1] Jules Troubat-Sainte-8euve'! secretary-to Poulel-Malassis, April 10, 1866: " See, then, how poets aJways eud! Though the social machine revolves, and regulates itself for the bourgeoillie. for profelSiofial men , for workers, . . . DO benevolenl statute is being established to guarantee those unrul y natures impatient of all retltraint the possibility, at least , of dying in a bed of their own.-'8ut the brandy? ' someone will ask. What of it ? You too drink . Mister Bourgeois, Mister Grocer; YOIl have as mauy vices as-and even more than- the IJOet .. , , Babac . burns himself out with coffee; Musset besots himllelf with absinthe and still produces his most beautiful 8Ian'lIlS; Murger die~ alone in a nursing home, like Baudelaire at IhiJ very moment. And nol oue of these writers is II Rocialist! " (Cited in Crepet ,
Tro;~
Grafldl ViutHlIJ (Paris), [j32a,4)
in the "Salon de 1859: ' vehement invel(;tlye against l'amoar-apropos of a critillu!!. of the Neo-Greek school: " Yet aren ' t we quile weary of seeing paint and ma rble squandered on behalf of this elderly scamp ... ? . . . His hair is thickly curled like a coachman 'lI wig; his fat wobbling cheeks press against his nostrils and his eyes ; it is doubtless the elegiac sighs of the universe which diJtl:nd his nelh , or per haps I llhould My his mea', for it is IItuffed , tuhulouI, and hlown Ollt like a bag of lard hanging 0 11 a butcher's hook ; on his mountainous back is attached a pair of butterfl y "ings." Ch. B .• OeuvreJ. ed . Le Daotec (Puris), vol. 2, p . 243.1 ~ U32.,,] ''There is a worthy publication in which every contributor knows all a nd has a word to say ahout all. a journal in which eyery member of tbe staff .. . can instruct us, by tunls, in politics, religion, economics, tbe fine arte, philosophy, and literature. In this vast monument of fatuity, which leans toward the future Like the Tower of Pilia, aod in which nothing len than the happinese of humankind is being worked uut . , ," Ch. B .• Oeuvre.!. ed . Le Dantel(; (Paris), vol. 2, p . 258 ("Salon de 1859"). (i.e Globe?)llo6 [J32a,6] I,n defense of Ricard: " imitation is the intoxication of supple and brilliant minds , lind orten even a proof their superiority." Ch. B., OeuvreJ , ed. i.e Dan tec, vol. 2, p. 263 (" Salon de 1859"). Pro domo!157 [J32a,7] " Tllaltouch ofslyness whicb is always mingled with innocence." Ch . B., OellvreJ, ed. Le Dantee, vol. 2, p . 264 ("Salon de 1859"). On Ricard. l !'>!! [J32a,8]
Letter 10 Jules Janin : " melancholy, alwaYIl inseparl1hle from the feeling for ' ]J32,4] Lel1t1t y. " Oeuvres , ed . Le Dantee, vol. 2 , p. 610.
Vigoy in "I..e Mout des oLiviers" <Mounl of OLive8), against de Maistre:
"Every epic intention . . . is the result of an imperfect sense of art."
i1e haa heen on IhiBearth for many long a!!leB. Born from han h mllsten and fal.te-speakin!!lsages. Who 8till V/:X thl'! 8pirit of each living nation With silUriuu8 ennr.eptioDJI of my true redem ption. I ~
1133,1]
]J32.'] According to Crepet «Ramiei(lire [Pari~ , l906] , ) p . 155). most of the drawings left [J32a.l ] by 8audelaire portray " maca bre scenes," "Am ong all the hookH in the worililoday. the 8ible being the sole exception , us fleurJ (lu mof i ~ the 1I108t widdy Jluhlishcd and the most llftcntran slated into other language" ." Andre Suar;-'s. 1"0;$ GrmldJ ViVlHltS (Paris
" Perhaps unly Leopardi, E.tgar Poe, and DostoevJlky nperieuced such a dearth of iU11lpiness, sudl a power of de6olation . Round aLout hin) , thi8 century, which in other rl."sp« t8 lOeems so Aourishil1g and multifariolls. takes 0 11 the terrrihie aspect of II d e~erl. ,. Edmond Jaloux , "Le Centenaire de Baudelaire," lA1 Revue h ebdo~ madaire. 30th year, 110. 27 (July 2 , 1921). p. 77. [J33,2J
<'AU hy himself, Blludelaire mllde poetry a method uf alJaly~i8. a form ofintruspectio n . III Ihis, he ill very much the contemporary of FlliuLert ur of ClaUf11l Her -
nard." Edmond Jal ou~, "i.e Centenaire de Baudelah·e," La Revue hebdo[J33 ,31 madCJire. 30th yellr. 11 0. 27 {J ul y 2, 192 1). 1). 69.
Meryon and Baudelaire were bo'J'n in the same yea r; Mer yoll died a yt'ar after Baudelaire. [J33a,6)
List of Baudelaire's topics, inJaloux: " DUVOUS irritability of the individual de·
In the years 1842- 1845. act:ordillg to Prllrond , Bumldaire was fa scina ted with a port rait of II wOlllan Ily Greco in the Lou\'re. Cited i.n Crt:ltet , ~Charlell lJCJudelaire ( Puris, 190('1.> p . 70. [J33a,7J
vOled to solitude ... ; abhorrence of the human condition and the need [0 confa dignity upon it through religion or through art . .. ; love of debauchery in order to forget or punish oneself . . . ; passion fOT travel, for the unknown, for the new; ... predilection for whatever gives rise to thoughts of death (twilight, autumn, dismal scenes) ... ; adoration of the artificial; complacency in spleen." Edmond Jaloux, '-Le: Centenaire de Bauddaire," La Revue hebdomadaire. 30th yeat; no. 27 Uuly 2, 1921 ), p. 69. Here we see how an exclusive regard fOT psychological considerations blocks insight into Baudelaire's genuine originality. [J33,41 Influence of
w Fleur; du mal, around 1885, on Rops, Moreau , Rodin.
Influence of "Les Correspondances" on Mallanne,
[J33,51 [J33,61
Baudelaire's influence on Realism, then on Symbolism. Moreas, in the Symbolist manifestO of September 18, 1886 (I.e Figaro): "Baudelaire must be considered the. true precursor of the present movement in poetry." U33 .7]
I)roject d ltled May 1846: " Lcs Amour'll el la mort de Lucaill"
[J33a, 11J
Claudel: " Baudelaire has celehrate~1 the only p a8llion ",·hich the nineteenth centur), could feel with sincerit y: Remorse." Cited in Le Cinqua nt.enaire de CluJrles Baudelaire (Paris, 19 17), p . 43 . (Compa re J 53, I .) U33,8)
" La Voix" worlds. "I""
"A DanteStlUe nightmare." Leconte de L.i.s le. cited in L.e. Cinquflfuenaire tk [J33., 11 Charle. Baudelaire (Paris. 19 17), p . 17.
According to Cha rles Toubill , Baudelaire in 1847 had two domiciles, Oil the Rue de Seine alld the Rue de 8abylone. On days when the rent wa' due , he often spent the night with fri e nd~ ill a third . See Crepet ,
Ed oua rd Thier'J'Y compa'J'es Le. Fleur. de mal to the ode written by Mirabeau during his imprisunment at Vwcenuell. Cited in Le Cinquanrenaire de Charles BlIIIJelllire(Pa 'J'is. 1917), 1' . 19. [J33a,2] Verlaine (wher e?): ""I' he profound originality of Baudelaire is ... to h. \'e represented , in a powt: rful and esseutial way. modern man . . • . By thill. 1 mean only modern man in the physical sem;e ... , modern man with his senses Iltir'J'ed up an.d vibrating. his IiJlirit painfully subtlt:. his brains aturatt:d with tobacco, a nd hiI blood on fi re wilh alcohol. ... Charles Baudelaire ... may be said tn personify the ideal type. the Hero if you will. of this individuality in sensiti vity. ~~w~lere.else. nol e\'en in Heinrich Heine, will you fmd it accentuated so 8trollg.iy. CIted In Le CinqUfln,enaire de Charles HCJlldelaire (Paris, 19 17). p. 18. {J33a,3] u:sbia ll motifs ill n abal' (Lt, Filie i\luupin); Dt'latu uche(FrasoletrCJ).
OIlX
yellx d'or); Gautic.· ( M(ulemouelk de [J33a,4]
Poem! for Marit: Daubrun : "Chan t d 'autonwe ," " Sonnet d ' autoDlne."
(133.,5]
~Th e
Voice>: " in the pil ', deepest da rk, I distinctl y see stra nge [J33a,12J
Crepel (p . 47) cou.nts fourtl!Cn addresses fur Baudelaire between 1M2 a nd 1858, nut including I:I onflcur Slid sonle temporary lodgingt. H e lived in the Quartier du Temple, tile lie Saint-Louis, the Qua rtier Saint-Germain , the Quartier Mont[J34,2] martre , the Quarticr de la Relluhlitlue.
"You are passing through a great city that has grown old in civilization--one of those cities which harbor the most imponant archives of universal life-and your eyes are drawn upward •."mum~ ad ;itkra; for in the public squares, at the comers of the crossways, stand motionless figures, larger than those who pass at their feet, repeating to you the solemn legends of G lory. 'War, Science, and Martyrdom. in a mute language. Some are pointing to the sky, whither they ceaselessly aspired ; others indicate the earth from which they sprang. They brandish, or they contemplate, what \V3S the passion of their life and what has become itS emblem: a tool, a sword, a book, a torch. vitai lampada!Sc you the most heedless of men, the most unhappy or the vilest, a beggar or a banker. the stoue phantom takes possession of you for a few minutes and commands you, in lhc name of the
past, to think of things which are not of the eanh. f Such is the divine role of sculprun:." Ch. B. , Oeuures, ed. Lc Dantec, vol, 2, pp. 274-275 ("Salon de 1859'V" Baudelaire speaks hen:: of sculpture as Lhough it were prest:nt only in tht: big city. It is a.scu.lptutt that stands in the way of the passerby. 11tis depiction contains something in the highest degree prophetic, though sculpture plays only Lhe smallest part in that which would fulfill lhe prophecy. Scu1ptuTe is found > only in the city. U34,3)
"\bltairt: jests about our immortal soul, which has dwelt for nine months amid excrement and urine .. _ . He might, at lcast, have traced, in this localiution, a malicio us gibe or satire directed by Providence against love, and, in the way humans procreate, a sign of original sin. After all, we can make love only with the o rgans of excretion." Ch. Baudelaire, Oeullre.s, vol. 2, p. 651 (" Ma n Coeur ntis nu'V" At this point, Lawrence's defense of Lady Chatterley should be men1J34a,6) tioned.
Baudelaire speaks of his partiality for "Lhe landscape of romance," more and more avoided by painters. From his description, it beco mes evident that he is thinking of struCtures essentially Baroque: "But surely our landscape painters are far tOO herbivorous in their diet? They never willingly take their nourishment from ruins . .. . J feel a longing for ... crenellated abbeys, reflected in gloomy pools; for gigantic bridges, towering Nillevitc constructions, haunts of dizzi. ness-for everything, in ShOll, which would have to be invented if it did not already exist!" Ch. B., Oeuurt.l, cd. Le Dantec, voL 2, p. 272 ("Salon de 1859'V" [)34,.)
Beginnings, with Baudelaire, of a devious rationalization of the charms exCrted on him by prostitution: "Love may arise from a generous sentiment- namely, the liking for prostirution ; but it soon becomes corrupted by the liking for O\VIlership" ("Fusees"), "TIle human heart's ineradicable love of prostitution-sowu: of man's horror of solitude.... Thc man of genius wants to be mu----that is, solitary./ The glorious thing ... is to remain Qut by practicing your prostitution in your own company" ("Man Coeur ntis nun). VOl. 2 , pp. 626, 661. 1" 1134a,7]
a
a
"Imagination ... decomposf".lI all creation ; nnd with the Taw malcrial8 accumulaled and illi rosed in accordance with rules whose origins one canOOI find except in the furth est depths uf the soul , it creates a n~w world- it produces th~ sensation of newness." Ch . B.• OeuvreJ. vol. 2 , p . 226 ("Sp.lon de 1859").ll>.l U341l. 11
III 1835 Cuotle', Le Diu.ble urno"rellx is puhlishl-.I, with It preface by Gerard de Ne.rval. Baudelaire's line in "i.e Possooe"-"Moll cher DcIzehulh, je I' adore"---is an explicit cilation of Cszotte. " Oaudelaire's verse has a J cmouiacal sound mucb stranger than the diabolism or the age of Loui! Philippe." Claudius Grillet . Le Viable dans 10 liuerature au XIX' siecie (l.yons and Paris, 1935), pp. 95-96. [)35,I)
On the ignorance of paint~ rs. with particular reference to Troyou: " He paints on alld 0 11 ; he 8Iol's up his soul and continues to paint, until at last be hecomes lik.e the artist of the 1II0ment .. .. Tbe imitator of th~ imitator fmd s his own imitators, and ill Ihis way each I/ursues hill dream of greallll:ss, Slopping up his soul more and more thorough1y, aod above aU reading nothing. 1I0t c'·en The Perfect Cook, which al any rate would have been able 10 open up for him a career of greater glory, if less profit. " Ch. B., OClwrc$. vol. 2, p. 219 ("Salon de 1859"),u" [)'4>,21
Leller to his mother on Decenlber 26, 1853: " Beside&, I am so accuatomed to pbysical discomforts; J know dO well how t o put two shirtil IInder p lorn coat and trousers 80 threadhare that the wind cuts through them; I know !lO weU how lo put stra .... or even paper solei in worn-out . hocs thai I hardly red anything ~cept moral suffering. Nevertheless, I must confess thai J ha'·e reached the poiot of heing afraid to make brusque movemenlf or to walk very much, for fear of tearing my clothes evell more. n Ch . B. . De,.nie,.es Le'tres inedites ii sa. me,.e, illtroouctioo and notes by Jn cllues Crepet (Paris, 1926). pp. 44-45.170 1J35,21
"The pleasure ofbcing in a crowd is a mysterious expression of sensual joy in the multiplication of number. ... Number is in all . .. . Ecstasy is a number.... Relig' ious intoxication of great citia." Ch. B., Oeuuw, vol. 2, pp. 626-627
The Goncourts report in their journal on June 6, 1883 , the visit of a yOllng man rrODI wllOm they learn that t.he hudding scholars al the high sehooi llre divided into two camp~. Thc rutu re ~ tud e l1 b or lhe. Ecole Nornlal(' hll,'e laken Ahout lind Sarrey as the.ir modl·lsi the oth('rf!. Ed lnoml ill' GOlleonrt an,1 Uaudelairc. J ournul des Goncouru, vol. 6 (Parill , 1892). p. 2&1. 1J35.3J
("Fusees").'~ Extract the root of the human being!
[J34a,3)
.....
arahes«ue is the most spiritualistic or du igu s." Ch. B.. Oeuvres. "01. 2, [) ) p. 629 (.. Fu&tts··).I.... "TJu~
""'or Illy pari , I say: the sole and IIUltreme plea.!iure of love lies ill the absolute knowled ge of living edt Allllm811 111111 woman know. rrolll birth , that in evil is to be found 1111 vllluptuoIl8nc8s." Ch. 8 ., Oeuv"eJ, \'01. 2. fl . 628 ('·"'II ~CCII").'·: [J34a,5)
To hi~ mother 011 March 4. 1860, concerning etchings hy /'II eryon : "The hideous all,1 colossal fi gure in the rr()tIliijpiece i~ nl1c or the fi gurcs tlct:oratinJ!: the exterior of Noire Dame.. III Ule baekground is Purill . viewed rrllll) a JII'ighl. Huw the. devil this mall manages to work so calmly over an pbYIi , J tlo lIot kllow.'· Cit . 8 ., De,.nii!res I..e ll rel fi su me,.e, introlJuctiUIi and notes hy Janlues Crepel (Parill, 1926), pp. 132-133.
{J35,4]
I.n t.he Dernii rell LeUre5 (p. 145), thill phrase tor Jeanne: " that aged beauty who now becom e 811 invalid . "171 H e wanl!! to Icave he r a n annuity after his d eath. 1135,S]
ha~
·~
..J
Decisive fo r the confrontation bChvtt.n Bauddaire and Hugo is a passage from Hugo's letter of November 17, 1859, to Vtllemain: "Sometimes I spend the whole night meditating on my fate , before the great deep, and . .. all I can do is exclaim: Stars! Stars1 Stars!" Cited in Claudius Grillet, VuJor Hugo ,Spidle (Yrons and Paris, 1929), p. 100,17.' [J35.6] The multitudes in Hugo: " The prophet seeks out solitude. . He goes into the desert 10 think . Ofwhal? Of the multitudell." ougo , William ShakclIpeare. <part 2, book> 6 . (J35,7) Allegor y in the spiritualist protocols from J ersey: " Even pure abstractions frequented Marine-Terrace: (dca, Death. the Drama . the Novel. Poetry, Criticism, Humbug. They .. . preferretl to Plake their appearance during the day, while the dead came at nighl ." Claudius GriUet . Victor Hugo $pirilc (LYOIl8 and ParU. 1929). p . 21. [J35a,l] The " multitude"" in Hugo figure a ~ the " depths of the shadow" in Le. Chiitimenu (" La Caravane," p ari 4) , Oeuvres complete., vol. 4. poe.ie (Paris, 1882), p. 397: "The day when our plunderers, our tyrants beyond number, I Will know that someone sti rs in the depths of thc shadow." [J35a,2] On Le~ Fleurs dIL mal: " Nowher e does he make a direct allusioll to hashish or to opium visions. [n this we must admire the superior taste of the poet, completely taken up as he is with the philosophic construction of his poem." Georges Rooenbach, L 'Elite (Puri;!, 1899), PI" 18-19. [J3Sa.3] Rodenhach (p. 19) cmpb allizes, like Beguin . the experience of the corre.pondances in Baudelaire. [J35a.4] Baudelaire to ~Bar h ey> II'AureviUy: " Sh ould yo u take Communion with hands on hipll?" Cited in Georges Rodcuhach , L 'Elite (Paris, 1899), p . 6. [J35a,S)
the most prieclch mliterial, ill fiut of all the filling up of so many columns. and a literar y arvhitect wholle nam ~ i.n itself is not II guarll.ntee of profit h ns to scU at all kinds of prices." Cli. B., Oeuvres. vol. 2. p. 385 ("Coliseib aux jeulies Iit{j3Sa,7] Note from " Fusees": " The portrait of Seremu by Seneca . That of S.ogiru. by Saini J onll Chrysostom. Acedia . the malady of monks. Taer/ium vitae ... " Chl'l rles Baudelaire. Oeuvres, vol. 2 , p. 632.174 [J3Sa,S] Char les-Henry Hirsch descrihes Baudelaire, in comparison to Hugo, as " more capable of adapting to widely varying temperamenlS, thanks to the keennells of his id ca~. sensation8, and words . ... The lessons of Baudelaire endure by virtue of .. . the strict rorm which keeps them before our eyes." Cited in Le Cinquantenaire de Charles Balulelaire {paris , 191 7), p . 41. [J36,1] A rt!mark by Nadar in rus memoirs: Around 1911 . the rureclOr of an agency for newspaper clippings told him that BlI.udelaire's name used to show up in the news~ paper s as often as the nanles of Hugo, Muuet. and Napoleon. See Le Cinquan.1J36,2} temlire de Charlel Baudelaire (Puris, 191 7), p. 43 . Passage from Le Salut publique lI.uributed by Crepet to Baudelaire: "CiweQs should not give heed .•. to such as tbese--to Barthelemy, J eao J ouruet , and others who extol the republic in execrable verse. The emperor Nero had the laudable habit of rountling up all the bad poetll in an amphitheater and Hogging them (J36,3] cruelly." Cited in Cr epet. (Charle~ Baudelaire (Paris, 19(6), ) I)' 81. Passage (rom Le Salut publiqu.e attributed by Crepet to Baudelaire: " lntelle(lts have grown. No more tragedieli, no more Roman history. Are we not greater today thall Brutus?" Cited in Crepet , p. 81. [J36,4] Crepet (p. 82 ) quotes the Notes de M. Ch(,mpjkltry: "De Floue perhaps belongs with Wronllki . Blanqui, Swedenhorg, and others, in that somewhat bizarre panth('on which lately elevated Baudelaire. following upon the r eading of his texts, the t\'ehl8 of the da y, and the Ilotoriety attained overnight by certain fi gures."
1l",5]
Three generations (avcurding to Georges Rodenbach, L 'Elite [Paris , 1899], pp. 67) revolve a llllllt the "lIplendid rc~ toration of Notre Dame." The firllt . fo nning as it were a ll ollter circl ~ . is rC)Jr~ sented b y Victor Hugo . The lIecond, r epresented by
·'Tht'. work of Edgar P06-with the eX(Jeption of few beautiful poenls-is the botly
" Howt:ver he-uutiful a house may he. it i5 firBL Qf all- before we consider its bea uty-so many fLocl h igh 11 1111 so mlilly feet "dde. Likewi3e, literature. which is
Baudelaire' s theory of imagination, as well as his doctrine of the short poem and the short story, are influenced by Poe. TIle theory of ['art pour l'a rt, in Baudelaire's fonnulation, seems to be a plagiarism. {j36.7]
of ao art from which Baudelaire has blasted the 1I0UI. " Andre Soares , S ur to Vie [J36,6] (Parill, 1925). vol. 2 , p . 99 (" Idees !lur Edgar Poe" ).
In hi' commemorati ve addrf'.IlH, Bunville drawl attention to Baudelaire', clallHical technique. [J36,8) "Comment on paie 8e! dette! (IUand on a dll genic" (How a Geniuli Paye Hili Debtt ) aplleared in 1846 und conlaina, under Ihe appcllalive " Ihe second friend ," the following IHlrtrait of Gautier: "The secl)nd fri end WIU , and 1I1i1i is, fat , lazy, and IIluggish ; whut ill more, he hilS no ideas arul can only st.ring words togelher liS the Ollilge IItringli beads for a nel!.k.iace." Ch. B. , Oeuvrell, vol. 2, p . 393. m [J36a,1} Hugo: " As for nle, I am conllcious ofth e sta rry gult in my , {ml." " Ave. dea-moriturull te salutat : A Judith Gautier," Victor Allgo , Oeuvrel chouies : PoesieJ et drames en uer$ (Paris <1912», p . 404. [J36a,2]
In his famous description of the lecture Baudelaire gave on Gautier in Brussels, Camille Lcmonnie::r represents in a fascinating way the mounting perplexity into which the:: lecru.rer·s positive glorification of Gautier plun~ the audi~ce. They had got the impression, as the talk went on, that Baudelarre was gemg to tum with some inimitable sarcasm from all he had said, as from a kind of decoy, in order to develop a different conception of poetry. And this apectation paralyzed the listeners. [J36a,3j Baudelaire-Camille Pelletan', favo rile poet. So suyli Rohert d e Bonnierea, [J36a,4] Memoires d 'aujourd'hui, vol. 3 (Pa ris, I888), p. 239. Robert {Ie Bonnierel, Memoires d'Qujourd 'hm, vol. 3 (Paril, 1888), puhli, hee, on liP. 281-288, lin exasperated Ictter I;t!nt 10 Tai~le by th~ direct~r of '~ Revue liberale on January 19 , 18&1. in whicll he cOlllplalns of the mtranl lgence displayed -- voeabonl . ., by Baudelaire ill the COUr5C of negotiation ~ over Clltl in the piece "'.....,.., ._d n .) (J36.,s] (S pl+:t
A passage from Rodenbach that exemplifies something typical in the descriptio~ of the city-namely, the forced metaph~r: "In th~ cities sadden~d ~ ch~tr
!;>'
of weathercocks,' Birds of iron dreanung [I) of 81ght to the skies. Cited 111 C. Tourquet·Mi1nes, 7?u: lriflunlct if BaudekJiu in Franu and England (London, [J36a.61 1913), p. 191.- Parisian modernity!
On a , bf'et wit.h the 8ketch of a (emule figure and two portrailN of a male head, an inscriplion in dating Ilack 10 the nim:teellth celllury; " Portrait of Blunqui (Augusle), a g(HKI likeness druwlI from memory by Baudela ire in 1850, perhaps 18<~9 ? " l{el'rlKluctioli in FeJi Glllltier, Charlel BalUlelaire (Bruli8e1s, 19(4), p. iii . [j37,I)
"He \\'ould (hurn his brains in order to produce astonishme::nt." 1bis comment by Leconte de Lisle occurs in the untiLled article by Jules Clarctie that appears in 1innbt:ulI and that reprints substantial portions of C laretie's obituary notice. U 'fombeull dt: Churlt:J BlIudelaire (Paris, 1896), p. 91. Effect of the endings of poems!
u
[j37,2]
"0 Poet, you who turnCtl the work of Dante 1I1)lI.ide .lo,,·u , I Exalting Satan to the heights and Ol!8CClitling to God." Closing line~ of Verbaeren', "A Charleli Balldeluin:, " UI Le Tumbeau de Cltarks Baudelaire (Pari.!!, 1896), p . 84. (J31,3) [11
Le Tombeall ele Churk, Blludewire (Parili, 1896), there is .II. text by Alexandnl
Ourousof, ""L'Archilecl ure se<:rele tlea Fleurs duo mal." It represenlll an oft· repeated attelllpt to establish dislinct cycles in the book, and consisI8 elilientially in Ihe selection IIf the poelll8 inspired b y J eannf" DuvaL It makes reference to the IIrtide JluLlished by (8arhey ~ d 'A ureviUy in Le Pay, on July 24, 185 7 ~ in which it WIIS maintain(.>O for the fmlt time that there is a "secret archih..c ture" in the hook . [j31,4] " The t"Chnes of the unconsciouli are 80 strollg in him- literary creation being, with him, 80 close 10 pbYlIicaJ effort- the cllrrenl3 of pa n ion are so strong. !IO drawn out , so slow and paiuful, that all his psychic being resides there with hili physical bt:in!:." Gustave Kalw , preface to Chu rle8 Baudelaire. " Motl Coeur nau a rlU " el " fusee," (Paris. 19(9), JI. 5. [J31,5J
" if Poe had been a real influence on him , we would find Borne trace of tltis in Iluudeluire '8 way of imngining ... scenes of actitln . In fa ct . the greater his immerliion in the work of the Americall writer_ the more he avoids fantasies of action ... , HiMprojected work ~. his lilies for novelli .. . all had to do with various ... psychic crises. 01 one liuggelll3 an ad venture of any kind ." Custuve Kahn. preface to Cllades Blluddaire, "Man Coeur mis iI flit " et " F".s ee," (Pa ris . 1909). pp . 12- 13.
1137,6\ In the "Salon de 1846" one sees how precise Bauddaire's concept of a politics of art already was at that time : section 12 ("Dc \'Eclecrisme et du do~te") ~d section 14 ("De Qyelques Douteurs") show that Baud~aire w~ conso~ ear r on of the need to bring artistic production into line WIth certam fixe~ ~U1ts. ~ section 17 ("Des Ecoles et des ouvriers"), Baudelaire speaks ofatorruz.aaon as f symptom of weakness . He lauds the schools of old : " 7hl:lI you had sch~b 0 painting' now you have emancipated journeymen ... - a school.. .. tha~ IS, the inlpossibility of doubt." Ch. B., Ol:uum, vol. 2, p. 13 1Yll Compare Ie PO'flClj! 1J36a,11
Kuhn discerns ill Bauddain' u " refulla l tn takt· the opporlu nity offered hy the liflltlre of the lyric pretut. " Gus-Ia" e Kahil , prefu('e 10 Ch . B .. "MOil Coeur mu Ii "II' '' !!I ""'usees" (Pal'ili, 1909). 11. 15. [J37,7J
or Ihe "" eurs J" Ifwl ilJulltraled by Ihulill for Paul Gallill1l1rd. Maudair writes: " YUII fed thul Ihillin hUil 1IIIIIdlt:.1 thl} hook, taken il up IIIItI 1'111 it dowlI a lmllJred tillle" . thut he hall n!all i.t wlii]", oul 011 walks, a nd at the end of a 10llg evening has
i.
s uddenly reope ned it unde r the lamplight and. haunted by a vene. picked up rue pe n . Qlle call ldl wileri'. he ,.Qulled. what p age he c reased [!]. how ull ilpa ring he lI1us l have Iu.."tln of the volume; for he had nol been give n SOllie d e luxe cop y ll00tliog to he protected from d amage. It wa ll very much , li S he himlleU liked to de8cribe it , lhil' pocket Baudelaire: ' Charle$ Baudelaire, Ving l-Sept PoemeJ tie. f"le urs du
nwl. iflll~m?J par Rodin (Paris. 1918), p. 7 (preface by Camille Mauclair).
picrre de Fayill. 'La Fanfarlo' a pJ.K:ars ... on J alluary I. 1847, 8igned by Charle8 Dulays." Ch . B., VerI r etroulle•. I;!d . JIIICH Mou(luet ( Paris, 192 9 ), p. 47. [J38.2]
Till' following s.mllet from the botl y or w(lrk hy Praro" .1 is attriLuted by Mo uque! to Bauddaire: 8 0rn in 1.I,e blUlllo a nam eleujade. Thf. chiltl grew IIp ~peaking IIrgul: By the agl' of len. he h. d gr. tllI. ted from the llewe ... ; Grown. he would 8ell hill i~ t er-i. a jllck-of-a U.trade,;.
1J37• •IJ
The penultima~ paragraph in "Chacun sa chimb-e" ~ To Every Man His Chi· mera) is distinctly reminiscent of Blanqui: "And ~ procession passed by me and disappeared in the haze at the horizon, just where the roWlded surfatt of the planc=t prevents the human gaze from CoUowing." Cb. 8" OeuureJ, vol. 1, p. 412.11' 1J37 ••2J
iii. b.ck hu ti,e curve or an old fl ying buttreM: rle u n !mirr oUlthe wII)' to every cheall borcl t.llo: lUll look i. II m.b:ture or . rrosanc,. a nd cunning; lie's the one to .en t: III W41chdoS for riole ....
On the painter Jules Noel: "He is doubtlel8 one of those who impose a daily 111II0UIII of progreu upon thcmse!ve8." " Saloo de 1846," Oeuvres, vol. 2 , p . 126. 1:-' 1J37 ••3J In th ~ comment on Lei fleurs du mal that Sa inte-Be uve sendl to Baudelaire in a leUe r of (Jum) 20, 1857, he Suds thill to 8ay ahout the s tyleofthe book : " a e uriow poetic gift a od an almost preciotu lack of conlltraint in ex:pre8llion ." Immediately foUowing: " with yo ur pearling of the de tail, with your Petrarchum of the ho rrible." Cited in Etienne Charava y, A. de Yl6nyet Charle, Baudelaire. candidau L'Acmiemie/nul(;aiJe (Pa m, 1879), p . 134. iJ37a.4]
a
" It scemll 10 me that in ma ny thin p you do oot take yo urllelf serioUlly e noupa." Vign y to Baudelaire o n J a nuary 27, 1862, a propOli of Ba udeiaire'll candid acy for the Academi('. Cited in Etie nne Chara vay, A. de Visny et Charlu Baudelaire, CfHulidatl ii l'Ac fJdemie /raR(;aue ( Paris, 1879), pp . 100-101. [J37a,5]
Jules Mouquet, in cthe introduction to>his edition of Chcarles) Bcaud~), Vm retrouui5: Manoil (Paris, (929), looks into the relation between Baudelaire and the poems published by cG.) Le Vavasseur, E. Prarond, and A Argonne in Vm (Paris, 1843). There tum out to be a number of filiations. Apart from aaual contributions by Baudelaire that appear in the second section under the name of Prarond, there att important correspondences, in particular that of "Le lU:ve d'un curieux"llO to "Le Revet' by Argonne (pseudonym of Auguste Down). JJ37 •• 6J
Wu-coillaillring keep. hit thin solei in place; On hi. uncovered pallct a dirty wellch la ughll To think of lu:r Im. band deeei\'ed b)' IInchu te Pari,. PleLda n oralor ur the MIOf'.kroonl . l:Je talkHpolitic. willi II,e corner grocer. Here i. whllf . c.lled an en/rllll de PnrU . Charles Baudelaire, Ver5 re,rOll ve. , ed. Jules Mou
1J38.3J
Freund contends " that the lIIus icalit y of the poem does nflt p resen t itself a.!! a specific . . . technical quality but is rather the a uthentic etho8 of the poet .. , . Mus icality is the fo rm ta hn by l'art p o ur Cart in poetry." Caj e tan Freund , Ocr Vers BfJudelairel (Munich , 1927), p . 46. [J38,4] On the puhlication of poems under t he LitJe Le, Limbe, CLimho) in Le Meuagerde /'Aue".blie, April 9, 185 1; "A Hmall booklet e nLided La Preue de 1848 contains the foUowin~: 'Toda y we see annou ncell in I. 'Echo de. marchu"cU de vi" a collection of poems caUed Le. Limbe" These are without doubt socialis t p OCOlS a nd . conseque ntl y, had pocru ij. Yel a nolhe r feUow haa become a disciple or Proudhon through eithe r too milch o r too lilde igno ra n.:e. , .. A. de III Findiere a nd George8 Dcscaux , C/IIJrle5 IJaude/oire (lleries Cll ti tlt.·tI Eunu de biblio8raphie con tempo[J38,5] rfline, vol. l)(Paris, 18(8), p . 12.
Modemity-anticlassica1 and classical. Anticlassica1: as antithesis to the classical Among the twe nt y-three l'oemJl of Lei fleurl du mat kntlwn 10 ha ve been composed by tlu: li umlllcr of l843 : " Allfgu rie ," " J e n'ai pas o ub(jf," " La ServN nte au gr a nd cocur," "Le Crc pullcu le d u matin .·' [J38, 1] " UuuJditire feels a c:ert Nin r~e rve a boul showing his wo rk lu the puhlic : he IJOJ)lis lwfI hill poc mil umler lI ul:ccssive pseuclunymlJ: Praro nd , Prival tl'AlIglelllo nt •
period. Classical : as heroic fulfillment of the epoch that pUts its stamp on its expression. [J38a. l ]
There is evidently a cOIUlection between Baudelaire's unfavorable reception in !klgiUffi, his ~putation as a police spy there, and the Ictter to & Figaro conccrn. mg the banquet for Victor HugO.Hil [J38a.2J
Note dIe rigor and dcgance of the title Cun'(Jjitis tJthitiqutJ. 111
[J38il,3J
The t~:lll:h i li gS of Fuur ier : "All huugh . ill nature, therc arc ccrtain plollts whicll a.r e nlo rc Or leu IlOl y, l:crlai,1 , .. animal.l! more or 11:85 5acred : Ilnd althuugh ... we nlay rightly cuncllille that cer tain nations ... Ila ve been prepared ... by Provi_ ,Il'nec (or a deh:r miued goa l ... - ncvcrt heless alii wish tu do here i8 aSSert thcir etluu ilitiLil y in the eyes of Him who iM ul1lldin ahle." e h . D., Oeuvre" vol. 2 , p . 143 ("Exposition Uni vcrselle. 1855" ). "11 U38il.41
" One of those tUJ rruw-minlied nl{)(iertl flrofeuor, of aesthetics (lUI they are called by Heinrich Heine), . ' . who!H! stiffened finger., paralY1;oo by the pen , can no longer r UIi with agility over the immellse keyboa rd of correl pondence.!" Ch_ B. • Oe/Ulrc • . voJ. 2, p . H 5 (" Expusition Uni ver sclle. 1855"). 181 U38a.S] " In lhe luallifold I'rCKlu ctiulll of art, there is sonlething always new which will forever I!Bcape Ihe rules alld a nalYlieH of the scimol! " eh. B .. Oeu vre" vol. 2, 1). 146 (" Exposition Uw ve rsclle , 1 855-') . 1 ~ Analogy to faswCln . [J38a,6]
To the norion of progress in the history of art, Baudelaire opposes a monadological conception. "'lransfcrrt:d into the sphere of the imagination ... , the idea of progress looms up with gigantic absurdity.... In the poetic and artistic order, inventors rarely have predecessors. Evuy flowering is spontaneous, individual. Was Signorelli really the begetter of Michelangelo? Did Perugino contain Raphael? The artist depends on himself alone. He can promise nodting to future centuries except his own works ." Ch. B., CHuureJ, vol. 2, p. 149 {"Exposition Universelle, 1855").11I6 [J38a.7] Toward a crili11lle of Ihe ('oncept of I'rogress in gene ral : " f'or this is how disciples of the philosopher .. of steam a nti sulfur matches llnderSland it : progren a ppears to them only in the fo nn of a n iudefi ni te ser ies. Where ill tbat gJlarantet:l?" Ch . B., Oeu vres . vol. 2, p . 149 ("Eqmsition Unh 'erseUe, 185S"}."11' [J38a,8]· " The IItor y is told of Balzac . .. tha i one d ay he found himself in front of a _ . • melalll'huly wi nter 8cene . hea \'y with hoa rfrost and thinl y IIJri nkled with co ll a~es and wrel" hed -Iooking peasa nlJl ; alltl thll t, after gazing at II little houst: from which a thin wir;p of smoke was rising, he crit....1. ' How beautiful it is! Bul wbllt a re they dning in th at t:Oltllgc? Wha t ar e their Ihou(th ts? What a re their @orrows? 1:las it been II guod h ar\'es t '~ No doub, ,hey h(l ve bills 10 po)'?' Laugh if you will .III M . de Bilizac. I llo IIlIt kllllW the nume of t.l1o: I'll iuter willJ!Ie honor it was to @el the great novelist'oj, lSoul a-llui" er with anxiety lind conjcc·turc ; hili I think thai in thiA ",'ay .,. he has giveu llli all f'.:(ccUenl.lelIIiClIl in ('riticiSIII . Yo u will uft el! find me app raiJing a pi c ltJ rl~ I'x d tl ~ iv dy fo r Ihe ~ UIII uf ideu ur of dr~ 'n l1l s tillil it s uggests 10 rlly lIIiml. ·' Cli . It . Oeu vres. vol. 2. JI . 147 (" Ex pusiliull Universclle, 1855").1/111 []39. I]
Copclusion oftb e "Salon de 1845": " T ile painter. the true paillier for whom we pre looking, will be he who c:.pn sna tch it.1 I:pio q ualit y from the life of tod ay and can OIake III see und lI.udf'rslund . ",·jl h br ill!" or wit h Ik'-ncil, ilOw great ami ,lUetic we UI'e in our cravu U and our IJall'lll-leuther booili. Next year let us hllpe that tilt' Ir ue Mocken 11111)' grant UIS the extraordillury delight of celebrnting tilt: advent of the flew !"' Ch . B .. Oeu vres. " 0 1. 2. pp . 54-55. llw (J39.2J
this muchIllu ligned garb its own lIati ve bea uty allli charm? fa it not the necessary gadl of our sl1fft'ring age, whjch .... ears the sym.hoi llf Jlt:rpetu al mourni ng even 0 11 ilJl thin black ~ h oll lll {,r!i? Notice how Ihe black l uit aud the frock coat pon en not only tlleir politkll l beuuty. which is lUi expres.iliuu of universul equ ality, h ut II IISO tJlCir poelic heauty. whieh ill an exprenioll of the public 80ul- an endless pro~:elili i oll of bir ed mou r Uf' r8, political mourners, amo rous mourners . hourgeois mourners. We ar e nU of U II celebru ting some funeral. I A unifllr m Li" ery or mourning hear s witness to e(IU aIiI Y.... Don ' t these puckered I;reasel , playing like serpents a round the mortified fl esh , have their own myster ioll8 grace? I ... For the herocs or the Iliad can not compare with YOII . 0 Va ut rin . 0 Rastigoac, 0 Birottt a u- Ilor with yo u . 0 Funt al1 l1 res, ""110 d ared nul publicly recount yo ur sorrowlS weari ng tllI~ fun ~real alld rWllJlled frO('..k coa t of tod ay: nor with yo u, 0 Honore. ..Ie Balzac. you the mOMt heroic . the mOit a nl llzin~. the most r Olllantic a nd the mOfit I)oetic of all the charaelers th at you h ave ,Irawll from your fertile bosom!" Ch . B., Oeuvres. vol. 2. 111'. 134 . 136 (","Saloll dc 1846: De J'HerOlsme ~ Ie la vie moderne").'''11 The Just senlence c(md udc.l! the &celion. !J39,3] " tb for the ga rL . the ou ter hll.ilk . uf tlle modern hero .. . , bas uol
"For when I hear men like Raphael and Veronese being lauded to the skies, with tbe manifest intOltion of diminishing the merit of those who came after them, ... I ask myself if a merit which is al ltQ.Jt the equal of theirs (I will even admit for a moment, and out of pure compliance, that it may be inferior) is not infinitely more 1nmtarioUJ~ since it has triumphantly evolved in an atmosphere and a territory which an: hostile to it." Ch. 8., OeuvrtS, vol. 2. p. 239 ("Salon de 1859").'91 Lukacs says that to make a decent table today, a man needs all the genius once required of Michelangelo to complete the dome of St. Peter's. []39,.11
~audclaire's attirude toward progress was not always the same. Certain declaratiOns in the "Salon de 1846" contraSt clearly "".jth remarks made later. hl that cssay we fmd , am ong other things : "TIlere are as many kinds of beauty as there are ho:abitua1 ways of seek.ing happiness. 11Us is clearly o:plained by the philosophy of progress . . .. Romanticism will not consist in a perfect execution, but ill a conception analogous to the ethical disposition or the age" (p. 66). In the same text: "Dclacroix is the latest expression of progress in art" (p. 85). C h . B., O~u tJrtJ>
\101. 2. llI'J
[j39a,2J
The importance of meory for artistic CWltion was not something about which Baudelaire was cll."ar, initially. In me "Salon de 1845," discussing the painttt Haussoullier, h e asks: "Is M . Haussoullicr perhaps one o f those who know too much about their art? l113t is a truly dangerous scourge:' Ch. B .. Oeuuw, vol. 2, p.23.'oO [J39a,3J
someone of an outlandish profession, like a bunter, a sailor; or a taXidennist. But by an artist . . . , never." eh. 8., OeuvreJ, vol. 2, p. 2 17 ("Sa1on de 1859"). This is a sort of evocation of the "amazing travelers."'" [J40.S] G(Juloi.serie in Haudelaire: " I.n illl lll O~ t widely accepted sense, the wor d ' Fr~nch menu.!! I1twdevilliste • ... Everything that towerli or "Iullges. abov6 or below him . Cll tl ~e!l him pl"Ulit'.lIt.1y 10 lake. tl.1 lUll heel8. The lIuhlime always affects hun like II ri ul. and hc tJPCIIS Ius Moliere oul y ill fear alld Irembling-a nd beca use omeolle 11118 persuaded hUll Ihat Moliere is an amusing author:' Ch . B .• Oeuvre•• "01. 2. p. III f'S alon tie 1846: De M. Horace Vernet").'''' (J40,6]
111/11"
A critique of lhe idea of progress, such as m ay b ecome necessary in connection with a presentatio n of Baudelaire, must take great care to differentiate itself from the latter's own critique of progress. This applies still mOTe unconditionally to Baudelaire's critique of the nineteenth century and to that entailed by his b iography. It is a mark of the warped and crassly ignorant portrait of Baudelaire drawn by Peter Klassen that the poet should appear against the background of a cenrury painted in the colors of Gcilenna. The o nly thing in this century really worthy of praise, in the author's view, is a certain clerical practice-namely, that moment "when, in token of the reestablished kingdom of the grace o f God, the H oly of H olies was canied through the streets of Paris in an entourage of shining annaments. This will have been an experience decisive, because fundamental, for his en~ existence." So begins this presentation of the poet framed in the d epraved categories of the: George circle. Peter Klassen, Baudelaire ('M:imar d 93 b ), p. 9. [j39" OJ
Gauloism'e in Baud elaire: "To organize a grand conspiracy for the extennination of the J ewish race. I TheJ ews who arc librario.lu and bear witness to the &dnnplion." eh. 8., OeUl/W, vol. 2, p. 666 ("Man Coeur mis a ouj.19-I CClinc: bas continued along these lines. (Cheerful assassins!) (J40,1) " More mililary lIIe1aph oT6: 'The poetl of co,nbat .' ' The vanguard of literature.' TIlliJ weaknclI.8 for mmla ry metal)hoT6 is II sign of lIalurell that are nOlthemselv.,. mililani, bUI a.re made for J iscipline-that is to say, for eonfonnilY. Natures collgerulaUy dome8tic. Belgilill nlllurt:5 thai can think unly in unison. " Ch. B, . Oeuvre. , vol. 2 . p. 654 ('"'Mon C~ ur mis a nu" ).I ~ [J40,2] " If II poel delll/lluled from the stale the right to keep a few hourgeoill in his stahle, l)Cople wllulll he very lIuF1lrised ; whereas if II bourgeois demanded a roas t poet, ~op l e would find this 'Illile ualural.""' Ch . 8 ., Oeuvre., VIII. 2, p . 63S ('"' FusCt-il").'''' [J40,3 j
"This book ill uolmade for my wi" e~, my daughlers. or my "islt:r 8.-1 han: little to do with dtlch things:' Ch. 8 ., Oellvres. vol. 2, p. 635 ( " f"u~cc~ · ').' ~7 [J'~ O,4J Baudelaire's esrrangement from the age: "TeU me in whal salon, in what taverDt in what social or intim ate gathering you have heard II single witty remark uttered by a spoiled child (compa.n: p. 217 : "The artist is today .. . but a Jpoik d child, a profmmd remark, to ma ke o ne ponder or dream ... ? If such a TCmark has been Lhrown OUL il may ind eed have bcen not by a politician or a philosopher, bu t by
Baudelaire k nows , ill t.I,e "Salun de. 1846.'- '"Ihe fata l law of propensities." Ch . B., Oeuvre!, vol. 2, p. 114 .~ (j40,7] Re the litle Le. Limbes (Limlll)), compare the paBiage frOIll the "Salon tie 1846" 00 Delacrou: 's paUl ling Women of Algiers: " This little poem of an interior ... &eems somehow to exhale the heady Icent or a house of ill repule, which quickl y enough gtudl's our thoughls toward Ih efathomleu Iimho of slldneu," Ch . B., Oeuvre•• vul. 2, p. 85.:!O1 (j40,8] AJlropos a dClliclion of SaUlson by Decamps, in the "Salon de 1845": "Samllon , that ancient co u ~ iu of Hercules and Baron von MilnchhauK Il." Cli . B., Oeuvre" vol. 2. 11. 24 .~ (J40a. l) "T hus. France was diverted from ils natural coune, Il! Baudelaire hal shown , 10 bet:ome II vchidi> of the desJlirituawalioll- the ' heslialization'--of folk and st.ate." Pder K.1P Ut:II . Balldelaire (Weimar ( 193 1» , p. 33. [J40a,2] C1osin~ line of La Ugende dea liecle •• part 3, section 38 ("Un Homn,e aw: yew:
pro(oud!l pusait" ): "0 scholar tlf ah yual things alone! " Victor Hugo. Oeuvre, completes , Poe,ie, vol. 9 (Paris, 1883), p. 229. [J40a,3) "The houlder with the pensive profile." Victor Hugo , Oeuvres completes, Poesie , vol. 9 (P-"ris, 1H83) , p. 19 J (Le Groupe des ;llylle$. no . 12 , " Dante"). [J40a,4) Crou('lwll! ou Ihf" l ummit. the !;rim tphin."" Nalure drtam8. I'ctrif)'io! ",·it.h ilf ahY'i-gaze: The mllgllij ulied 10 wondrl)u ~ flil!ht~. Tht: 81utlio us grO llp ur I,a le Zoro88tria lJl . Sun-lluc rs a nd ijc a nller iO of the Sian. TIl!' ,Io u.!,..:!. Ilw astuun,\c,l.
~,·ol ... etI in riot ·roun.llln.· 6l,hinx . If ",.~ "uulJ on~f' lifl up ib rnollstNHl5 P"''''·. SO fllMin a ling to th.. mim i of )"uteryur U~<:w' un ju~ t a8 mtlch IIllI n"',·,,1 1.I '·no'e. ).
T Ill' nighl
Undernelllh Ihlll dllrk lind flllill claw We'd find I1li~ one word , Love.
j
1..
" Mall d er.eivt'i himself! B e lee. how da.rk all is for him ." Victor Hugo. La Legende des sieelel . part 3 (""'Unr, bres"), in Oeuvres complete., Poelie. \·01. 9 ( Paril , 1883). I'p . 164--165. Ending of Ihe pocm. [J40a,5] Emling or "Lu nuit! La nwt! La lIuit!" (N~ht ! Night! Nighl!):
o se pulchen! I hear the fearlul organ of the sh. dow, Fonned from 1111 th e erie. ofmmher nllture And the crash of rocky reefl; Dealh plllYI the clllvier re30unding through th e hrancha. And the key •• now blllck . now white. lire 1111 Your tomhl tonf!tl and your biers.
Victor Hugo, La Ugende d el sikcles, part 3 ("Tenebrel"), in Oeuvres completel, poe.ie, vol. 9 ( Paris, 1883), p . 161. {j40a,6]
In La Ugen
On Joseph d e MaiJltre: "To the pretenJlion8 aud the insolence or metaphysic!. he
responded with the his torical." J . Bar bey d ' Aurevilly. )()Jeph (Ie lUuu l re, Riaflc de. Saint-BonrJel , L{I(:ordaire, Gralry. C/lro ( Par ill. 19 10).11. 9. [J4 1,4J
"Somt', like Ba udelaire, ... ideDt.iI'u:d the: ,lemon. JltMj!geral but reoriented themselves, and ollce more honored God. 11 would nunctlieleSi be uujullt to ex~ 1 from these preCUrSOrii D s urrender of the huruan facli hiCIJ ftI co'"plete as that rt:4uireti, fur examplt·. i.n the IIOrt of mys terious dawn it lI~ms we have begun til live ut p re~e nt ." StanisllUi Fumet , No Ire Bfludelaire [ ae ri+':/I cntitled Le Roseau tJ'or. vol. 8] (pa ris, 1926). )1 . iii. 1141 ,5] " This great I'Ut'-til: success thus re presents-if we add to tbe8e 1,500 copiel the prilil-run or I ,O()O , plus the overruns fronl the first edition-a /lum total of 2, 790 copies maximum in circulation . Wha t other poet of our day, except Victor Hugo , could boa,t of IIl1cb a demand for hill work?" A. (Ie la Fineliere and Georges Descaux , Charlet Baudelaire [ len til el1titled En a u de bibliogrflph ie contemporaine, vol. 11 (Paris, 1868). Note on the second edition of Le, FleurJ du mal.
1J41 ,.) POl'.: "Cyrano de Bergeral: become a pupil orthe ostrunomer Arago" -) ollrnal del Conco urt , Jul y 16, 1856.::U'_"Ir Ed gar Poe dethroned WIIJt~: r Scott and Mcrimee, i£ realis m and hohenUanism triumphed all down the line, if certain poenl! about which I hllve nothing to say (for fnirness bids me he silent ) were taken seriously b y ... honelt and weD-intentioned men , then this would no longer be decadence but an orgy." Pontmarlin , Le Spec w.teur. September 19, 1857: cited in Leon Lemonmer, EcJ&a r Poeet Ja crifUJueJrOnt;aue de 1845 ii 1875 ( Paris. 1928), pp . 187,2 14.
[J4t., IJ On aUegory: " Limp armJl , like weapons dropped h y olle who flees.'$1
1J4h.2)
Swinburne appropriates for himself the thesis that art has nothing to do with From Theodore de Banville, Mel SOllvenirJ (Pa ris , 1882): " I no longer recaU which Mrican count ry it was in which be wall put up by a family to wbom hit pa.rentJl had sent him. At an y rate . he quickly became bored with theeonventional mllnners of hia hostl, aud took of( by himself for a mountain to live with a taU young womlln of color who undentuod no French . and who cooked him s trangely s piced rago uts in a burnis hed copper cauldron, a round which Jlome n aked little hluck childrell were dllncing and howling. Oli . hut those rago utll! How well he ~:U lljurelJ them up. ilml how 0111: would have 1(I\'ed to try them! " (p . 79). [J4t.2)
" 1.11 hill lodgings al the Hiitel Pimothm, when I wenl tll t re for the fi rs t time to visit him, there were no dictionarics, no N!Jla rate stud y- not evcn " trJble with wriling mul.eri{lu ; nor Wll8 there a sideboard or II separate dillinlS room . ur anything else resembliug the d &:or of u bourgeois apartment. " Theodore de UM.nville, {lies Sou,. IJfmirs ( Par is, 1882), pp . 8 1-82. [J4 1,3J
morality.
1J41a.3]
M.re II ca the~lr a l. " ErneSI Ra)'naud , Ch . Bcwdela ire (Pari., 1922), p. 305 (citing Go nzagutl tie Reyuold, CharleJ Baudelaire). [J4 1a,4]
"us Fleur. du mil l
" Oauddaire frels amltormellts himself ill producing the least word . ... For hinl , art ' i8 a duel ill which the artist shrieks wilh Wrror ill'forc heing ovcrCOIIU'. "'M Eruest Ru ynauti , Ch. U(ludelairc ( Puris. 1922). 1'1" 3 17-318. [J4la,5]
Raynaud recognizes the incompatibility of Baudelaire and Gautier. H e devotes a 1J4 t:o.,6] lo ng chapter to this (pp. 310-345). olBaudclairc submitted [0 the ~uiremelilS of ... buccaneer editors who exploited the vanity of socialites, amatc;u rs, and novices, and accepted manuscripts
only if one took o u t a subscription ." Ernesl Raynaud, Ch.. &u(u/aire (Paris, 1922), p . 3 19. BaudeL'lire's own conduct is th e complement of this state o f affairs. He would o ffer th e same manuscript lO several different j o urnaJs and authorize reprints withoUl acknowledging them as such. [J4 1a.7] B u u~lel u in: 's essay of 1859 0 11 Ca utier; "Cautier ... could not have m.iainterpl'i!ted the pit.'CI'. This is lllUlle dea r by the fact tJlIlt , in writing tht: p refal:e to the 1863 edition o( Le, Fle"r, du m(ll. he ""iltily N!paid Baudelaire (or his ellsay." Emen Ra yna lld . Ch . Baudelaire (Paris, 1922). II . 323. [J41 a,8]
" III other n!lI l}t~d8, what witnl~8 mOIl tellingly 10 lhe eviJ sl)CU of those timet; is t.he sto'1' o( Balzac, ... who ... aU his life fairly cudgeled hill brain s 10 mas ter . style, ""ilhou! ever attaining One , . .. (Note: ] The discordancy o( tJlOse times is Ilndcrllcored by Ihe (al'l Ihat the pr isons of La Roquette and Maus were built with the same gunu with w ll il~ h Libert y Tree~ ....ere planted everywhere. Bon aparwl1 propllganuda ...·ae harshly suppressed. but the ashes uf Na po leon were brou~t home .. , . T he center of Paris was cleared and its streets wt:re opened up , but the city wal! ' lrangled wilh a belt o( forlificatio ns. " Erne!!1 Raynaud , Ch. HfJlldela ire (Pari!!, 1922). pp. 287- 288. [j4 1a,9]
p088eossing grea t vigor and fllarvelou ll prt.'Cioiion ." Alcide DU801icr. NOiJ Gen, de IeureiJ ( Purie. 1864), 1111. 112- 1I 3 (" l\ter yolI·'). [J42AJ There is a reference in Dusolicr, a propos of " Femmes damnecs," to La &ljgi~us~ ~'fhl! Nuro-but Diderot is not mentioned. [J42 ,5J
A further judgment from Dusolicr (p. 114); "BUI can one say, 'H ere is a poet'? ~. if a rhetor were an orator."
The legend about the relation between verse and prose in Baudelaire goes back to Dusolier. Shock! {j42,6]
Closing wurf l ~; '"'If I bad to ~ um up in a phrase what Baudelaire is by nature and whllt ht' woultllike to penuade us lhat he is . I would uy without any hesitation : he ill a hys terical Boileau . J May 6, 1863 ." Aldde DU801il'r, Naif Gen$ de leUreiJ (Pari~. 1864), p . 11 9. {j42.7] Bau dclaire's horoscope. prepared for Raynaud by Paul F1amban: "The psychological enigma o f Baudelaire is seen almost entirely i.n this alliance of two things ordinarily the leaSI suitcd to being linked together: a wonderfully flu ent poetic gift and a crushing pessimism." Ernest Raynaud, Cn . BtlUdt:iaire (Paris, 1922), p. 54. The Baudclairean psychological antinomy in its tritest fonnulation, (]42 .8)
Aft cr referring 10 the marriage of uncient Olympus with the wood spritea and rairies of Banvilll': " Fnr his IJa rt . liule wishing to join the evel'-sweJling prooession of imitalorMon the higll road o( Romanticism, Charles Baudelaire looked about hinl for a patJl to originality.. . Where to cast hit lot? Creat wal lUI indeci· siu n .... Then he noticed thut Christ , J ehovah, Mary, Mur y Magdalene. the an· gl·liI. and ' tlll.:ir I'h ahlDxes' all occupied a place in this poetry. bUllbat Sata n nevef' aplH!arOO ill it. An error in logic : he re80lvoo to cor rect Ihis .... Victor Hugo had made la diable rie a fanta stic 8{'tting for 80rne aucient legcmls. Baudelaire, in con· trasl , aCllloUy iucarCf' ra tt'(llIIotierll mall- the mall o( the nineteenth cenIUf'y-m the prison or heU." A1ei.le Dusolier. Naif Ce ns de kllre, (Pari9. 1864). pp. 105-106 ("M. Cha rles Bautld aire" ). (]42.1)
" Is Ih.i ~ 10 say th at we 111I1 SI IIccellsa ril y assimila te Baulldaire to Dante , a8 1\1. de Reynold. fo Uu ....ing the lead o( I::rnest Rayna ud , has dOlle? U it is a qUelltioo o( IJtM!tic genius, surely admiratioll ... can go 0 0 (urlber. l( it is a queslion or pbi1o-sopltical tendency, I .... ould n1llrel y remark tha t Dante ... , ....eU in advaoce o( b.i.a time.. intrOOUC1!8 into his work idcae tJlat ur e alread y tluite modern , as Lameonais hail nicely demoostr ated , .... hereas Buudelaire ..• gives rull exp res8ioll to the Ipirit or the Middle~es aDd is, accordingly, behind the timet. T hus, utile truth bt: told , far from continuing Dante. he dif(en (rom him altogether ." Paul Souday. "Con· :r.ague de R er nold '~ C harlet UallClelaire" (L.e, 1empl, April 21, L9'2 1, "w Livres'·). (J42a.l]
"H e certainly would have made an excellent reporter for the witchcraft trials." A1cide Dusolier, No; Gnu (u leUreJ (Paris. 1864), p . 109 (I'M , Ch, B.") . Baudelaire must h ave enjoyed reading that. [J42 .2]
" N(lw ellitions of Lell ,"'/.eurs du mal huve. brtn announced or are starting to ap· pe ur. Up 10 II OW th r rc hU\'e ht:eu only 1....0 UII the market, one. ror six frall C!. the uth"r fur th ro..... rrallC! fifty. And now one at t.....!nt y Sou8." Paul Sou day, "I.e. Cill' [J42a.2] Ilualltcnairc de Baud <,laire" (Le 1'emplf. JUlie 4 , 19 L7).:100,
Wllh Dusolier, considerable insigh t into details, but total absence of any perspec' tive 011 tJle w ho le : "Obscene m ysticism , or, if you prefer, m y.stical obscenityh ere , I have said and I repeat, is the double character of UJ Flt:11rJ du mal." A1cide Dusolicr, No; Gms de leltreJ (Pari,s. 1864), p , 112 . [J,$2 ,3]
.. w~ ....uuld ro'SI' I' VI) Iiolhing. 1101 even !lrai.se. I 1I1t1:;;t then to the J1rt:81~ m:e. in M. Uauddaire'" pudic galll·ry. uf certain t/,bleau.x /m ri.sie llJl (I wo ulll Ila ve lireferr!',1 efUlX-jor. e. (elehings) a~ a mure accurate aml -mur!! cha racteristic tt' rm)
A'·"IlI·lliu!;
10
SOlldlly- in
II
n :vil'w nr Usut\d llirr '" It'l tel" (I.e l em/JIS . August 17. [J42a,3]
1 9 ! 7}-Ullu~l e l uil'e earned u tnlill of L5,UOtl frUIIl!Nill tw,·nl y· fi ve yea rs. " '1'11/' .'01'
stlll"\ly slups . ...·jl b their air of idlelle@8 nnd lluSllllgill. ,.~...,-;
(]42.,4)
Thes i ~ of Puw De8jarJius: ··Ulludc!llir., i8 luc killg in ve rvl~t.h a t ill to >lily. IH' hili
illeas hut ulily sclIslitioIUI. " £>Ilul Oe.8jll rl lills. " C h a rl c~ Uaudt"laire.:' R ev ul! bJeue (paris. 1K87). p . 22. [J42a,5]
Ill'
" Baudelaire d ves IInl give us a lifelike representatiOIl or objecla; htl ia more 1':0 0 ccrllcd 10) IIh -eJl the image in memory thall 10 e mbelliij h or porlruy it." Paul DCNjardillll, ;'Charl...s Duullduire..'· Rev lU! bk/U~ (Purill . 1887). p . 23 . [j42a,6]
Souday tries to d ismiss the C hristian vellcities of Baudelaire \-\lith a reference to Pascal [j42a,7)
Kafka says: dependency keeps you young.
[J42',8]
"'Thill sen alion is the n renewed ad infinitum Ihrough aSlonis hment .... AU of . l udden , Baudelaire drawl back from ""ha t ill most fam.iliar to him anti eyes it in horror.... He dra Wl bucl.lrom hinuelj; he look. upon himself all somelhin5Quite lIe w ali(I prodigioul ly interellting, although 11 little unclea n : ' Lord give me IIlren8th and courage to behold I My botly a nd my heart ""illJOut diilgust!" ''* Paul D~ jarllins, " Charles Baudelaire ,~ Revue blelte (I'aris , 1887) . p . 18. [J42a.9)
Baudelaire's fatalism : "At the time of the coup d 'etat in December, he felt a sense: of outrage. ''Nhat a disgrace!' he cried at first ; then he came to see things 'from a providential perspective' and resigned himself like a monk." Desjardins, "Charlea Baudelaire," Revue Melle (ISS7), p. 19. (J42a, IO) Baudelaire-according to D esjardins- unites the selUibiliry of the Marquis de Sade with the d octrines ofJansenius. [J43.l] "True. civi.1i:t.atioll ... hal nothing 16 110 with ... taLI ~-turning' '2II'J_a n allusion to Uugo . [J43,2) " Que diras-Iu ce 80ir ... " ( Whal Will You Say Tunight ... ) invoked uthe poem of It " lUau ill whum a decided a ptit ude for the most arduous s peculations did not exclUile a I~:try Ihut wu s 8ulid. warm, colorful , essentially o ripnal a nd humaoe .~ Chllrles Barbara, L 'Au flS! in«t du Pom- Rouge (Pa ris, 1859). p . 79 (the soonet, lIP· B2--83). [J43,3] Ba rres: " In him tile s implest w\)rd be trays tileefforl by ~' hi c b be attained so wAh a lel·d ." Ciled ill Cidc. " Buudduire et M. Faguet ." Nou Vf'.lle R eV ile fran r,aiM. (November I. 1910). 1" 5 13.: 10 [J43,4j "A IJilrase of Brlltietic rc'lI is e ven more til our )lurpuse : ' ... Hi' lac ks ani mation tllld imagin a tion .' .. . Agreell tbill lIe laeks unimutillll a lltl imagina tion ... . The (Iliell tillll urise R(llillee-. nfte r a U, we 114.1 have Le!l Fleurs rill "wl) w h cth(~r it ill indeed e~senli u ll y tile imaginuliun which makes till! puet ; II r. 8iIlC(' MM. Fagllel lind Brlt llelie re l'el'lIIilll y a re in favor of giving IIII' lIam~ IIf ptlel r y lu a kiml of versified uruIO I·Y. ~' Iwtllt'r WI' wtl ullillol II" ~'e11 til hail Baudd a in~ lIiI AOllwthing other at ud mill',· thun a " oct : till' fi ncl urtiSI in )XH'lry:' AU!I ~ Cicl" . " Outltldairtc el M. FOb'uel ," IVo u u,.lle Re lll"~ franfillise, 2 (Nol'emht' r I. 191O). ltp. 5 13-5 14. C ide
quoleS, in cunllectiolt with t.his. 8ttudclaiu'8 rormula, "The imaginatio n , thai qU et' 1i ~If the fll c wliea:' a mi CO li cetl C~ Ih ut the puel was UDaware IIhlle truelltale of uffairs (I" 5 17).11 1 [J43,5] "T he lI('ell»ng illu)lpropriutl~n ei!l of lerlllll, ~' hldl will irritate sOllie critics 110 mltf!h , I.hal ! killful illl lul~' isen eu of ""hich Rpcirre alreatd y mpde !lUGh mUled y lise , ... Ihal air-s pact' . tlull inle r vlI l, hclWI!Crr imuge a nd idea , between tbe word and the ,1»llg. ii jusl whe re ,llere is room for Ihe pue.lic emOlion 10 come and dwell :' ./\ . Gide. I; Buuddairt' cl M . Fagl.le t." N OII Vf'.11e Re l'lIe frcHl~aise, 2 (November I.
1910). p. 5 l 2.m
U <&3,6)
" Entluriug fa mt' is prullliscd only 10 those ""rile rs ""ho f!lln offer to s uccesiive gl'nc ration!! u nourislllllt'.111 c<mnantJ y re newed ; fo r e ve ry generation arriveH on the SCt!JlC wit h its own particula r hunger:' A . Gide, "Oaudelaire et M.. Faguel ," l\'oulH!:lle Revue fram;tli$e, 2 (Novemlter I , 1910) . p. 503. t 13 [J43,7J fa guel clllllplains of the lack of movemenl in Buudelaire, und Gide, making referellct' to Bauddaire's " I hale aU move ment" and to the ite rative poemll, re marks: "A8 if the greates t novelty of his a rt had lIot been to immobilize his poems, to tlt' veio p them ill depth !" Cide, " Baudelaire el M. Faguet;' Nou velle Revu.e f rufI(. aise, 2 (November I , 19 10), l'P. 507, 508. 211 {J43,8}
Of the line, "Limp amu ... ,n Proust says, in the prd'ace to (Paul Morand,> 1'nulm Stach (Paris, 192h, p. 15, that it sounds like something from Racine's Bn·lannicw.2I' - The heraldic cllaracter of the image! 1143a, l) Very a50lte judgment by Proust on Sainte-Beuve's behavior toward Baudelaire, in the preface to TendreJ Slocks?I' [J43a,2) Of those ';tUDt>8 ... grantillg a kind of yo ry tu tbe c rowd ,'" Proust rema rke «"A Propo~ de Ba udelaire ." NOlulf!lle Revue fru ru;aise [J une 1. 1921],> p . 646): " It wo uld !et!1n Unlwlisihle III hCUf'r tlUlt . '':1, 1143a,3) " I Ila ve IlOll IluII time 10 ' Ileak Ile re of the part played in Baudelaire's wo rk by uncient d til!s . or uf Ilw sf'a rlet IIl) l e the y Ht rike. here and ther e, ill the fabric of his IIIJdry:' Mared l'rollSt . " A I>r opos de Uaulldaire ." Nou velle Revtlejrrm r,uue (.Junt' l. 1921), p. 656 . m 11<&3a,4] I' h nl$t Ihinks t hat 1.111' c'JIIeiuding lines or Imth
1I111n ."
Sena nl'1l11r, Ohermunn , ed. FaS(IUI·)Je [J43a.6)
i.
" I-Ie was the firsl ... to show Llle woman ill her lw.Jroom . ill the midllillol only of hel" jewel.!; and IIC"lImell. hili of her mu.kcup, h,',. lille" .. , b ...... Ire u eli. Irying to d N:.id.: if ~ h e prefcn D ,cllllo/Jetl/Il~ 1II Qr (I ,slrfliShl hem . I-Ie compares her ... to animal_ to the elCIJllo"" the monkey. and Lhe ,,"n/;e:' John C harpentier, '; L.a Poesic brilalillique ct Oauilelaire," Mercure- de FrtUice. ),n (/llay 1, 19'21), p . 6 73.
[]43.,7]
to Ollluse myself, whether such Il prodigious ma811 of alOUell. marhle hlockll. Slal-
uC!. alld wall. , whi.. l. are all aboul 1.0 collide with ontl another. will he greatly ~ u.ll.icd by thai lUuhjtude of brains, human fl csh . 111111 .d13t1cretl boncli.-1 iiee s uch lerrible Ihings in my tlreams thai sometime.! I wish I euuJil sleep no mort:. if onl y I could be ",un: of nOI becoming too weary. ~ Nad ur , Cllarle$ Baudeluire inlime (Paris. 19U). !lp. 136--137 [
I" On allegory: "'His grcalclI! glory, '.HOle Thoollhile Gautier [ill the "rcfaee to the 1863 edition of Le, Fleurs du mull , ' will be 10 have introduced into till: realm of stylistic possibilities whole clu"e~ of object;;, sensutions. fi nd effCt11io leIt IInnamed hy Adam . the g«-al lIo me ncia tor.· He name, ... the hOlleS aud rtlgre lli. the curiosities aud fears , thai seethe ill the darkness of th!!; innl!r worltl ... J ohn CLarpentier, " La Poisie britannique c i Bamlda ire," Mercure de "·roTlC€, 147 ~I a)" l , 1921)1 p . 67<1. [J43a,8} " L'luvilation au voyage,'" lransllllt.."ll inlo Ru ~ ian !ly MI:n':Ilhkuvski, became a gypliy romance enlilled " HoluLka mo·ia ." [J43.,9] III Cl!lmcl;tioll with " L' lrn! mcl)jublt:: ' Cripet (LeI "'lellr~ rlu "'(II , ed. Jacquell Crepel [Paris, 19311 . ,•. 449) cites Ihe foll owiug pU8suge from Les Soirees de Saint~ I'etersbourg: "Thai ri"cr which ont! crosses bUI once; thai pitcher of the Danaidcs, (llwaYI (ull anll alwuY5 empl y; thallh'er ofTitYU8, ollClllYs regenerated under Ihe bea k of the vulture thai ulwu),s devoul'il it anew • ... - thelle are 80 many speaking hierogl YJlM, a boul wltich il ill impossible 10 IJe mistaken . ~ I [J43a,10] u 'Her 10 Caloune, dir« tor of u! Revue conte"'llOrnine , a ll February II, 1859: " The dUlice of death is nOI a J.lcr~on bUI an allegory. It lIeem... to me that it IIhould 1101 be ca pitalized. All eXlremely well-kuown nllegory." Les Fbwrs d'l mal, ed. Crepel ( Paris . 1931 ), 1" 459.U:! U.s. 4,1J Hegarding " L ' Amour du lIIen ~o llge" d ..o"e of Det!t!in . From a letter 10 A1pboDI!e de Calonne: "'The word 'royal' willliclp the reader undl'rslllntilhe nlela phor. which tralll!COr"lDti memor y into II crown of loweril , like those Ihol wcigh down the broWM of lhe gotltle;;;;t!!i of nwtllri,y, ofJerti/i.I)", of wi$d om ." "'/eurs till mul, aI. J aC(lue& Cr epet (parill, 1931), p. 4-M .m (j44,2) PlulIllcd cycle of pot! mll "Oucirocritic"
6C)()V~ ·
[J44,3]
Prousl U II " Le 8a II)01l": " MuIl Y of the lines ill Rau tldaire'jl ' Lt- BalcolI' convey a similar impression of mys tery" (p. 644). This in eonll'UBt to Hugu : " Victor Hugo ulwaYM does wonderfull y whal he has 10 do. , . . Bul the filliric:lting--even wlum il iii It fabrica ting of the impalpable-iii a lwaya visiblc," Marcel Prou ~ t , " A Propoa de IJuudduino," Nouve lle Revlle Jrum;aue. 16 ( Parill , 1921 ). PI" 643-644.ID
IJ",4] On the ilerative poems: " The world of Baudelaire ia a strange sectioning of time in which oll1y tbe red -Ietter day8 can appear. Tltis explainlliluch frequ enl expl"Cl8ioua il8 'If SOllie e"coing,' aDd ao 011." M. PrOU1!I, " A PropOli d e Baudelaire," N Ollvelle RevlleJrtlnf,aue. 16 (Julie I , 1921), p. 65V~h [J44,5) Meryon'a Idler of March 31 , 1860, I(,l Nadar: be lille" Dol wish 10 be photogra phed by him . [J44,6}
"As 10 Baudelaire'll ' "age prope.rties'-... they mighl provide a u.sefullell8on for those degant lafliCl or the pasl twent y years, who . . . wuuld do weU to consider, when they cuntemplole the alleged purily of Ityle which the)" have achieved with s uch infiltile troulJh: . th tll a man may be the greatest and m08t artistic of wrilers, yet tlescrihe nothing bUI beds with ' adju ~ taL It: curtains' (' Piecell condanwee8'), hallil like cooscrvaloriee ('Vile Martyre '), bc:da fil lell with s ub tle scents, SOfll1 deep u tombs, whalnots loadt'd with Rowerll, lamps burning 110 briefly (,Piec(''11 condamnCes' ) tbat the only ligbt comell from the coal f,re. Ba udelaire's world is a 1)lace to which , at rare momenlS, a lH!rfumed breeze rrom I.he ouler air bringl n:freshment anti a SC'II !1t' of Illl1giC •••• thanks to those porticoell ... 'ol)en onto ullknown skies' (' J...a Morl '), Qr ' which the s uns of the Ii1"U tinged wilh a thousand 6re8' (' La Vie anti:rit:urt" ):' M . ['roust , " A PrOP08 (1(' Baudelai re ." NOIHoelle Revuefrun(.uise. 16 (JuIII' I , 19"21). p. 652 .1:~ 1J4h..I J Olltlw ·' Pii:cl·s ,:ollliannu!cs": " T hey lake Iheir " Iuetl ollce mort' alnOIl& till' gralld l'~ t I'H(' m $ ill II ... hOllk. like tllO~e cl·y~ la l · cll: ar WU"I'~ 1.11111 h ClIvc majestically after a night of 6101'111 . II ml , I,y illl c rpu~ i Jl g tlleir c l"I:~1iI 1"c'lwel~ 1I Ihe sl)Cclalor lIud the illllllelll>l' S Wt' I' P "f the UI!CaJl , gi"c a 6t' n ~I' "f i Jlal'c a llli di ~ lall c(' 10 tllt~ ,'iew," I' r ou,;t . ' ·A Prup05 de Blludclai,·c,'· NOIllld/e UmlUcJru ll f,uise. 16 (JUII<' I , 1(2 1). P· 1)55. mI U"' 4a ·2J " Ho w did he Clime 1.01 he !ttl inleret>letl in lesbianll , .. "! " ' 110'11 VigJlY. ragi n ~ againsl WOllU:.II, Ihougllt 10 flllt! Ihe explanation of the mys tery of Iht!ir scx in Iht: fa cl Ihul
'"
M
women give s uck ... . in their psychology ('Alwa ys lite companion wl l o~e heart is untrue'), it ill easy 10 see wby, in bill frustrated ami j ealou!! p 8ii1ion . he could write : 'Woman will have Comurnah . and Ma n will ha ve StHlom.· But lie dOell. lit least . lee tlu~ two 8eJU:~ 11.1 011118, fa cing each o the r 88 enemie&a cross II great gulI.... But thill did nul hold true of Baudelaire ... . Tlus 'colloeclioo ' between Sodum aud Gomornh i.s what , in the flll a l se<;hOIl of Illy novd, ... I ha ve shown in the person of 11 brutish crealure, Cha rles Morel (it il ullually to "rumh creatures that this pllrt is lI11olted). But it would seem that Bilutielaire CIIsl himself for it. and looked 00 the role as It privilege. 11 wouJd be intensely interesting 10 know why he chose to IIossume it, and how well be actluiltet! himself. Wha t i.e comprehensible in a Charles Morel becomes profoundly mysterious in the author of U~ Fleur, dl.l mot. .. Marcel Proust , "'A Propos de Baudelaire:' No uve.Ue R evuefram;l.I~e, 16 (June I , 1921), 1li>.655-656.%:'I [J44a,3]
Louis Menard- who , under thc pseudonym Loujs de Scnncville. had published Promellilre deli vre
An article by Louis Goudall in U Figaro of November 4, 1855. opens the way for oiticislll5 of "university pedants." Goudall wriles, afu:r the publication of ~ in La Rrou~ tW deux mondeJ: "After the fading ofhis surprise celebrity, Baudelaire will be associated exclusively with the withered fruits of contemporary poetry." Cited in UJ FlturJ du mal, ed. Crepet (Paris, 1930), p. 306. {j45,3] In 1850 , An cliueall Ita .... Baudcluire wit.h II copy (Jf the I>ocms in ~crihed ily a c:allif!;· rlll'her and bound ill tW l> gilde~J ~Iullrto vtllulllc8. [J45.4]
Crepel (Fleurs du lI1 a l , etl. Crt':I}ct , I). 300) ~ay~ that , around 1K46, lIIallY of Baudelaire.'8 frielicis knew his PfJelll ~ hy heart. O nly three of the I)ot'ms had been pullli,8hed at thllt poiut. U4S .5]
May L852: "'A'' ' Lim~s <.Limbo): intimate poems of Ceorge8 Durllnt , eolle<:ted and I'uhlishf'd by his friend Th . veron:' [J45,6] AUIIQUncillS l..es Lim/JfUI ill tilt' , ,-'Comt iU Ili' of L 'Echo de. mllrchcmds de vin : "us /,imoo5: )I111'lllii hy Charles Uatuldaire. Tbe book will be published on February 24. UWI . ill I"' rill and Leipzig. " {J45,7] 1.A'I'untc lie Lisle in La R evue europeenne of December I , 1861. Among other Ihillgi! . he speaks of " that strange mania ft)r dressing up the discoveries or modl.rll industry in had verse." He refers 10 Baudelairc's oeuvre as "stamped with the vigt)rll us seal or long meditation." The Inferno Illays a hig part in his review. Cited ul/.,es Flellr. cllI nlal, ed. Crellet , pp. 385, 386. {J45a, l] S winhllrll~l'~ artide in TIl e Speclutor of September 6, 1862. The author was Iy,cnty· flve. yea" old atthc time. [J45a.2]
Paris, for Gonzague de Reynold. as "antechamber to the Baudclairean He.U." Tum to tllL~ second chapter, "La VIsion de Paris," in part 2 (entitled "L'Art el l'ocuvre" ) ofhis book CharltJ &udelnirt (Paris and Geneva, 1920), and you find nothing but a longwindcd, subaltern paraphrase of certain poems. [J45a,3] \'illon and Uaultelaire: " hI the one, we find the mystical and macab re Christianity of a ll ugtl ill the proee8. of l o~in g its f«itll ; in dIe otber, the more or IciS sccularized Christianity of un age seeking to recover its faith ." Goltzague de R eyooltl , Charles Blilu/ewire (paris and Geneva , 1920), p. 220 . (J45a,4] Reynold .Iraws a Bc.hematic parallel between tbe fifteenth anti the nineteenth centuries as periods of decadence, in which an extreme realism prevails alongside an extrenu: idealislll, together with unrest. pt:~9 imi 8 m , lIud egoislll . [J45a,5] Imitlltio ChriJlt i, hook I , )larlilgraph 20 , "De amore 80lituclinus el 8ilentif': " Quid IloO le1l alihi villere , quod hie nun vides? Ecce; caelum et terra et omnia elementa : 1I:lIn l'X i8lil onmia sunt facta ..,~JO [J45a,6]
MaLiarmc, in tht: IIpening picct: uf DivIIS"'iOfI..!, ' ·Formerly. in the IJIlirgilili of a U' l rUEL\lK~:" : ··T his turrellt tr.ars iJlumiliated b y tbe bengllilight of the artificer Sli lalt. ~' hu ro meR from he.himl." tephane MaUarme, Divugations (Paris, 11:197). /1 . ftO . [J45a.7J
or
U"':" mLel' 'I. liN 7: " After New Year's Day, I alll starting H new kind of writing, . .. Ih t· No n ·1. It is nol nece~"lIry rur me tv point out to yu u till! gravit y. the bcu ut y, and th t· iufluih' IlUu ibilitics uf that a rt ." Ch(ll rlc ) 8 (atuiclllire), ulIrd it sa mere ~ I'll ds . 1932) . p . 2". :~ 1 {j45a.8] IJt '·t:mJ.... r 8 , l8JlH : " Anuther reason I would he hlllJI>Y ir YUII were ahle hI comply with my rl!(luest is that I very much fear II revolu tionary uprilling, a nd nOlhing ie
more deplorahle lhan to be utterl y without mOlley lit I Uf'h a time:' Ch. B., i..eure, a .m me re (PUM!! , 1932). i" 33 .tn [J45a.9] " From th r ~nd of the Second E mpire .Iowl] to (our own Ilay. the evolution in philo@ol,hy a nd the blooming of Fleur! du mul have been concomitant. Thit explains the peculia r destin y of a work whose fundllmc nllli I,arh . though still en yelopell il.1 shadow, are becoming clearer with every passing day. " Alfred Capus, I.e Gouloi.J. 1921 (cited in Le.J He,m du mol, ed . Crepet [Purls. 193 1] , p . SO).
u..
11",11 On March 27 , 1852. he mentions to his mother some "'ieldy articles , hastily writle n. "
July 10, W61 , o n tile pla nned de lu xe edition : " Where is the mama who will gi ve I.e. ,.'le ur, ,III //lui as a present 10 he r cI.illlren? And whert' is Ihe pal'a?" ktlre. ii ~(I mere, p . 186. 1146.,21 IUs i'ye!! siraincd wilh working in Ihe Lo uvre: " Two hloods hol goggJe-eyes. " Let(I ~ll mhe. 1'. 191 . (j46a,3]
Irl's
UII I.e' Mi.Jer(lble.f-Aogu ~ t 11. 1862 : '4'he book is disgus ling and clumsy. Ou this !C' lr.·, .. ve s hown that I possess Ihe al'l of lying.'" Lettre, ii SCI me re, p . 212 . uo [J46a,4] June 3, 1863. He spea ks of Pari.s . " where I have been borcd rur month~, U ~ no oue wa~ ilVl'r borell befor e." Let/reI! $ U fIIP-re. I). 218. 2~ 1 1146.,51
a.
March 27 , 1852: '1'0 begel childre n islhe onl y thiug whic h gives moraJ intelligence 10 the fem ale. As for young women without status I1n.1 without childr en , Ihey show nothing Lui ('Otluelry. implacahililY, and elegant debauc he ry." Lettres mere
a '0
(Paris, 1932),1'. 43. 111
Conclusion or "Grepuscule du soit" ; the muse herselr, who turns away from the poet to whisper words or inspiration to dIe air. [J46a,5]
[J46,3] Hunt/claire plunned a "refutalion nf the prefa ce to the life of Caesar by Napo-
In a leiter 10 his mol her. 8autldaire refers to the relltLing room . in Ildwtion to the cafe, as a refu ge in which to work . [J46,4] Dccr:mber 4 , 1854: "'Shouldl resign myself to goinS to bed and staying the re for lack of c1oulell·t" Let.tre. a.Ju me re (Pnrls, 1932). 1" 74.u.> (On p. 101 , heas lu for the loan of some handke rc hiefs.) [J46,5) Dect'mher 20, 1855, afler loying with the idea of pctitioning for 11 subvention! " Never will Illy name appear 011 filth y government paper." Leure. .JO mere, p . 83. ~ 1146,61
a
Problematic pllssage from a le tter of July 9 , 1857 , concerning Le. FIe.lr. (lu mol: " Morco\'e r, IIlarmed myself by the honor I was going 10 inspire. I cui out a Ihird of il at the proof &lage." Lef.tre, (j .JU mere, p. ] lO. :'1 ; [J46,7]
leon
m."
[J46a,7J
LI a lette r of /\tay 4. 1865, Baudelaire me ntions to hill mother an "immensely lou~" article appearing in La Revue ge rmanique. Lettre. me re, p . 260.:1.2 {j46a,8]
a ,u
Mllrch 5, L866: " 1 like nuthing so llIuC'h as 11.1 he alone. Bul that is inlpuu ible; and il 8e~ m 6 Ihul "i e Btlutleitlire $c/uJ(J1 exists ." Le'/re. a $11 mere, p. 301 .:4J [J46a.9] Decemhe r 23 , 1865: " 1£ I can ever regain Ihe freshneu a nd e nergy I've sometimes enjoyed. I'll assuage my wra th in horrible books. I'd like to selthe entire human race IIgain.!!1 me. That offers a pleasure thai could cons ole me for everything." ultre, ,j , a me re, p . 278 . : ~ [J46a, lO]
May 6. 1861 : " 'And what ahout Cod!' you ",·W sa y. I wish with all mr heart (wilh wha t s incl'ril y I alOIlt: can kllow) to belie ye thaI an exle rior invisihle )'dllg i.& I'ollcerlled wilh my fat e. Bul wlla l call I do to make myself hdieve il ?" U Ure, U, (I me re. p . 173 . t J;l 1J46, lO]
" AI! a mall adv tIllC':s through life ... , whal the worM hU ll agreed to c ull ' heauty' luses muc h of ils imllOrtalice. .. Henceforth bea ut)' wiJI be no more than the Jlrom;.Je of IluJlpineu . ... Bea ul y lO·ilJ be. the form whic h promises the ruo" kind"" ilS , Ihe Inollt loyalt y 10 a n uath . I.h e mOSI hones ty ill fulfilling a pled,;e . Ihe mos t sul.tlel y ill ului t'l'S hmding rdlltionsltips" (p . 424). And a little furth er o n , wil.h ro::.ferc ncc lu "L' fo:cole pltlt".llne." to whirh these lines wrillen ill Mil allium cOlls titut e U ,, (.It·! "111110' i'OHMI p08sihly Sll ccet!.1 in cllnvincing a yOtlllg ~ell ltcrhraill Ihal 110 o~ t1 S u a J d i'~ ire is fIIill gll~d willt tht" irr.!sistihlf' sympathy I fed fOI· old wome n- fur tl""st" creat ures who hUl'e s uffered greutl y through Ihdr lu,·erll , their hus band., tJ.~ir ,·hiltlrl'lI . a nJ also through I.hdr own mis ta kes?" Ch . n.. Oell vres ct)mp~te$. ,·tl . Le Da nlei' . vol. 2. fJl> . 424_4 2S."lt.:> (147, IJ
Ma y 6. 1861, " I um ft.rty )'eurs nlclulIIl1 CIUUI,,1 think uf sehoul wi ll.oul lIui u . any 1II
" I'' ur SOf1l'~ lime . ... ill hUll sttlllc(l] to mt\ Ihat I am havi ng a Lutl dr"IIOl , th ul I a m hurtling thro ugl. SJlU" C Ilud titul a multituJe of wootll·n. guld"II , alltl silve r illul~ lire fllUin g wilh IlIe , hunhling after me, humping inlo me , lIod breaking my IWltd
Sl,leeli de I'flrM apvears for a time, ill 1857 (see I). III , le tte r of Jul y 9. 1857), to have Ilad Ihe title PoemC.J noctllrTI€' . [J46,8] Planned eliHay (Leur€. (i . (' me re . p . l 39) Oil Mat·hiavelli a lld Condorce!.
[J46.9]
bllck. " Ch. H" Ocuvrp.!I ctJmpletes . vj)1. 2 . pp. 421)..42 1 ("L' Ecj)le Compa re the am::c\IOII' abo ut B:Hllleiairll und the Mexir.a n idol <J 17a.2'1>, {J41,2] und
"ulcnllc··) .~
Toward the end of the Second Empire, as the regime relaxes its pressure, the theory of ['art pour l'art suffers a loss in prestigt:. {J47,31
From the argument of the Guys essay, it would appear that Baudelaire's fascina· tion with this artist was COTUtected above all with his handling of backgrounds, which differs little from the handling of backgrounds in the theater. But because these pictures, unlike scenery on a stagt:, arc [Q be viewed from close up, the magic of distance is canceled for the viewer v.ithout his having to renounce the judgment of distance. In the essay on Guys. Bauddairc has characterized the gaze which he.re and in olh« places he himself turns toward the distance. Baudelaire dwells on the. expression of the oriental courtesan : "She. dirtas her gaze at the horizon, like a beast of prey: the same wildness, the same indolent disuac· cion, and also at times the same fixity of attention. Ch. B., OtuureJ, vol. 2, p.359.lf7 {j41,4J M
In his poem L' HeaUlUntiI1l0 rOllm eIlO~"
s peaks of his shrill voice.
A decisive value is 10 be accorded Baudelaire's efforts to capture the gaze in which the magic of dista nce is extinguished, (Compare "Li\mour du men· songe.") Relevant here: my definition of the aura as the aura of distance opened up with the look that awakens in an object perceived ."" [J41,6J l11e gaze in which the magic of distance is extinguished : "Let your eyes plunge intO the fixed stare I of saryresses or water splites" ("L'Avertisse.ur"
vol. 2, pp. 639, 64 1-642.:sG_l n the malll18er iJlt , tlll~ re is a variant ror Ihe la81 ....or
The ~iea: that begins •. "The wo rld is coming to an end" ("Fusees,'" no. 22), contaIns, mt~"O\'en WIth the apocalyptic reverie, a frightfully bitter critique of Second Empire society. (It reminds one here and there:, perhaps, of Nietzsche's delineation of "the last man.") Ths critique. displays, in pan, prophetic features Of the coming society, il is sa.i~ that "nothing in the sanguinary, blasphemous, unnatural d~ams of the utOpians can be compared to what will actuall ha pen .. .. Rulers \vill be compelled, in order to maintain their position and c~ate~ semblance of .or~er, to resor:r to ~e~ods .that would appall present-day mankind, hardened as It 15 . • . • Jusnce-if, m this fonunate epoch, any justice can still e.xlst-will forbid the existence of citize.ns who are unable to make a fonu Those times att perha~ ~uite d~e at hand. Who knows whether they : . ~~; here already-whether It 15 not stmply the coarsening of our natures that k . . ha «1" us fro m nooang w t sort of atmosphere we mady breathe?" C h, 8., (kUlIrtJ, vol. 2, pp. 640-64L~1 [J47a ,3J
0;
"The gil)t of il all , in the eyes of hislory nnd of the Frcnch people. i!:! Ulal Na pn~ ~eo \l 1I1 's grellt ciainllO rcnowll will have h~1I thai he showed h.) .... ullybody at all, il only he gelS hold of LIlt" telegraph and the printing presses, can govern a poeot Qaljo~ . ~~olle .whu I~eli:ves thai 8111:b things call be do ne without the people's lH::rnusslOn II a ll ImhCt:tle. Ch . D.• Oeuvres , vol. 2, p. 6S5 ("Mon Coeur nUl ii. nu .. 11 0. 44) , 1148, '1] "A sense of solitude, l illce my child hooll. Despite my family, and ~pecially amid c(lm paniou ~ scllse of a.n eternally lonely de~ tiny, " CII , B., Oeuvre$, vol, 2, p. 645 ("'M(III C(H::ll r mis ii nu ·').~5.l [J48,2J
'::ruth ,
ror a U itMmultiplicity, is not two· fal!(."il."' Ch . B.• Oeuvre.!, vol. 2, 1>. 63 ( Sa loll de UM6: Aux D ourgeoi~"), :.;.j [J48,3J
"'AUe, ,,, is one of (··Sll l(ln lie I84S").U>
,1,-
~ 11 0
II J est genre/i 0 f art ."' Ch . 8 ., Oeuvre$, vol. 2, p . 30
1J" ,41
'1'~l! ",:illlI1ust have lieconu: II hi&hl y deveJol>ed uII11 producth'e (acuit y til be IIhle 1,;~gJ v"- li s ~lttll\Jl . , . III work!:! . . , of Ihe lIt.'eUlIIll"tlllk .... The ~pedll l.,r elljoys lh~ ~ 1Y~~·::)~I\'1 his eye drink~ ill U)e swell!.·' CI!. II .• Ofl/lI!re,. vol. 2 , (p. 26) ("Sld oll de
1J48.51 ·"rtU.1 ill ,
f . •. . . ca II progress . fillS dlm helll'ul), all Illvellt.ion of o'unlemp'J["IlI"Y philo!lo' '; 11 " 111 . licl"lIsed ""il!aulli lhe sanct.i ull of Na lll rl! ur Cnll- thii lIl u J"rn IUIlIl':nl casU \ urk silluluW6 over ever y obj""
1J48.61
"Slupidity i~ of len the ornam enl of beauty. It is whal gives 10 the eyes I.hat gloomy timpiJ.ilY flf hl llr:k.isli pool. 811(1 tllUt oily calm tlf tropical .ellll." CII. 0. , Oeuvre., vol. 2. p . 622 ("Choix d ll lllUXimC8 CUlI suI.mles sur I ' amour·').~~; 1148,7)
"'A lasl . general rule: in love. be wn", of the moon and the I IlIr,; h cwllre of the VeliliS de Milu:' Clio D.• Oe'Hlrel. vol. 2, II . 624 ("Ch oU: ti l" mnxiW CM eonsoJantea li llr l' amour").z.I&
[j48,8)
Baudelaire was always after the gist. His epoch forbade him to fonnulatr: it in such a way that its social bearing would ~come immediately intelligible. Where he sought in fact to make it comprehensible-in the essays on Dupont., as in the theon=:tical musings in a Christian vein-he instead lost sight of it. Nevertheless, the formulation he attains at one point in this context-"How much can you get for a lyre, at the pawnshop?"-gives apt expression to his insistence on an art that can prove itself befon=: society. The sentence from Ch. B., OeuurtJ, vol. 2, p. 422 ("1.:&ole pa'ienne"}.219 (J48,9) With r egard to allegory: " What tlo you expect from heavell or from the Itllpitlily oC the public.? Enough mOlle y to raise altars to Priapus and Bacchus in YOllr attica? • , . I umlentamltlu: rage of ico uoclast s and o f Muslims against images. I admi t aU tb e r emorse of Sllint Augustine fo r the too grea t p leasure of th e eyes." Ch. D" Oeuvre. , vol. 2 , IIp. 422, 423 (" l ' Eeole pa"jenne'· ). ~ [148a, l)
It belongs to the physiognomic profile of Baudelaire that he fosters the gestures of the poet at the expense of the professional insignia of the writer. In this, he is like the prostiune who adtivates her physiognomy as se."'(ual object or as "beloved" in order to conceal her professional dealings.
[]481,2)
If the poems of U J EpaueJ, in Proust's great image,261 are the foamy wave: cresu in the ocean of Baudelairean poetry, then the poems of "Tableaux parisicns" are iu . safe harbor. In particular, mese poems contain hardly any echo of the revolutio n· ary storms that we~ bn=:aking over Paris. In this rupect they resemble the poc:~ of Heym, composed forty years later, in which the corresponding state of affam has now risen to consciousness while the "Marseillaise" has been interred. The last two tercets of the sonnet "Berlin Ill," which describes the sunset in Berlin in winter. n=:ad as follows:
It would ~ a big mistake to sec in the theoretical positions on an
tak.en by
Baudelaire after 1852-positions which differ 50 markedly from those of the period around 1848-the fruits of a devdopment. (lbere art not many artist! whose work anests so little to a development as that of Bauddaire.) These positions represent theoretical extKlllcs, o r which the dialectical mediation is given by Baudelaire's whole oeuvre, without being entirely present to his con. scious reflection. The mediation resides in the destructive and purificatory character of the work. 1ltis art is useful insofar as it destroys. Its destructive fury is directed not least at the fetishistic conception of art. Thus it serves "pure" art, in 1149,IJ the sense of a purified art. TIle first poems of UJ FleurJ du mill ate all devoted to the figure of the poet. From them it emerges. precisely insofar as the poet makes appeal to a station and a task, that society 110 longer has such t.h.ings to confer. 1149.2] An examination of those places where the "I" ap pears in the poems of Baudelaire might result in a possible classificatory grouping. In the first 6ve: poems of UJ FkurJ du mfll, it surfaces but a single time. And further on, it is not unusual to find poems in which the "I" does no t occur. More essential-and, at the same time, more deliberate-is the way in other poems. like "Reversibilite" or "Har· monie du soir," it is kept in the background. 1149,3J "'La Helle Durothee" -lIh e must huy bal:k h e r ele vl!D-year-oIJ sis ler. ~
jJ'9.<)
-- I a ssurt' yOIl thai the sccontls are n ow Il trongl y acce nted , and rush out oflbe clock "rying, ., am Lifc , uubt:arlthlc tlllJ illlJllut:ab le W e!'" Ch. 8. . Oeuvres, vol. 1. p. 4 11 ("ta Cluunl,rtl Jouble").a. 1149•5 ]
Outset . .... ith n'(crc ne,' It) lliut imJlc.r·till t'lit ,1t~S igliutiulI , ' the bourg~oi s,' .... t: beg 10
TIle dead look out on the rt'.d sunset From their hole. II ta5tCl like strong wine.
TIley sit knitting aU along the wall. Soot}' C.1 p 5 on their naked tC':mplcs, ~ Marseillaise.n
Georg Heym . Dichtungnl (Muruch. 1922), p. 11 .
The idea of the immobilization of nanm: appears, perhaps as n=:fuge fo r the prescient imagination immediatdy before the war, in poems by Georg Heym, whose i.mages the spleen of Baudelaire could not yet ha~ lOuched : "But the seas congeal. On the waves I The ships hang rotting, morose." Georg Heym. Die". IU1/g~ (Munich. 1922). p. 73 (collection entitled Umbra, uibu). [J4SI,5)
FrQm --Q UclII1l('8 'UOt8 Il"illlru,IIIClioll" 10 Ihe "Sa loll ti e HI4S"; " Antl a t th e very
A paupers' graveyard upheaves black, stone after stone;
To d lC old attack song, dlC
A decisive line for the comparison widl Blanqui: ""When earth becomes a trickling dungcon n ("Spleen TV") . ~ [jol-BaA)
0",,3)
~ t n t,· Ihat WI: in 110 way 1I11I1I'C the p,·cjll,liet!" tlf IIUI' gn!al eonfrcrt!!! ill th~ world of ft'·I. ""liu for ~o m .. yenTII III'w hn ve J>etll I! tri,·illg Iheir utmOij t to caSI anath ellia upon Ih;jl inoffe.nsive b"ing .... Ami , lill ully, I.h~ Tallk s tlf lire artiSIJI the.'lll!eJvt:s contain 60 IIHl ll y bUltI'gf'ois thnl il i.o; ht·lh:r . (I II tlie whul... Ito SUPIlTt:KS a word whic.h tJoes lIot Iidillt' no y !lurti/'lIlar viet· of ,·aBle.'· Detll/rel, vol. 2. PI' . 15- 16 .%<0.:; The ",nm e len tlC' lO'Y iu tilt! Jlrt:fllcc ...Aux UOllrgf"oi ll." of the "Sulull d e J.S-J6:' U ol- 9.6)
The figure of the lesbian woman belongs among Baudd~ 's heroic exemplars. [He himself gives expression to this in the language of his satanism. It would be no less comprehensible in an unmetaphysica1 criticallanguage.J The nineteenth century began openly and without reserve to include the woman in the process of commodity production. The theoreticians were united in their opinion that her specific femininity was thereby endangered ; masculine traits must necessarily manifest themselves ill women after a while. Baudelaire affirms these traits. At the same time, however, he seeks to free them from the domination of the economy. Hence the purdy sexual accent which he comes to give this developmental tendency in woman. The paradigm of the lesbian woman bespeaks the ambivalent position of "modernity" vis-a-vis technological development. {What he cou1d not forgive in George Sand, presumably, was her having profaned, through her humanitarian convictions, this image whose traits she bore. Baudelaire says that she was worse than Sade.)2<06 lJ49a,1}
."'propos of " Harmon i ~ du 8uir" a nd other ite rative poems: Balllieluire notes ill
The concept of exclusive rights was not so widely accepted in Baudelaire's day as it is today. Baudelaire often republished his poems two or three times without having anyone take offense. He ran into difficulties with this only toward the end of his life, with the IHitJ Poemn m proS(. lJ49a,2]
US.,5]
From his seventeenth year, Baudelaire Jed the life of a
Poe " repetitious of the s ame line or uf several li nt:s, illsis tent reihlra tiollS of pllrases which simulate t he ohesssiol1S of melancholy or of a fix ell i,lea. I I "Notes Ilo uvellcs slIr Edgar Poe," in NOIUlfl lw 5 lIistoirfl5 flxtroordinu ires (Paris <1886», V. 22.2611 LmmoLilizatioll !
{.J50,3)
" Lord give me streugl h anll cOurage to behold I my bOll y a nd my heart without Jisgu st!" With this, jw: t apo~e: " T ile dandy shou1d aspire to be ~ lI hlim e, COlltin Ually. He should live and sleep in fro nt of II mirror." Oeuvre~, \ ·0J. 2. p. 643 ("Mon Coeur nlis Ii 1111 ." nO. 5). T he lilies of verse are rrom "Un Voyage II. Cydu!re. "2M
US.,'] TIle close of "La Destruction" (published in 1855 under the title aLa Vblupte"!) presents the inmge of petrified unrest. ("Was like a Medusa-shield, I image of petrified unresr"-Gottfried Keller, "Verlorenes Recht, verlorcnes GlUck.")
On "Le Voyage," opening stanZa: the dream of distance belongs to childhood. The traveler has seen the far distant, but has lost the belief in distance. U50,6) Baudelaire-the melancholic. whose star pointed him into the distance. He didn't follow it, though. Images of distance appear [in his poems] only as islands looming out of the sea of long ago, or the sea of Paris fog. These islands are seldom lacking in the Negress. And her violated body is the figure in which the distance lays itself at the feet of what Baudelaire found near: the Paris of the Second Empire. [J50,7] The eye growing dim at the moment of death is the Ur·phenomenon of expiring appearance <Schn'm. USa,S} ';Les (lelites VieiUes"
Baudelairt's violent temper belongs together with his destructive animus. \-\e get nearer the matter when we recognize here, too, in these bursts of anger, a "strange sectioning of time.":;! U50a,l ] Baudelaire, in his best passages, is occasionally coarse-never sonorous. His mode of expression at these points deviates as little from his expelience as the gestures of a perfect prelate deviate from his person. [J50a,2} Although the general COntOurs were by then already lost to view, the concept of allegory in the first third of the nineteenth ccnrury did not have the disconcerting quality that attaches to it today. In his review of us Poisit:J de Joseph. Delonnt:, in Globt: of April 11, l829, Charles Magnin brings together Victor Hugo and
.u
Sainte-Bcuve with the words : "They both proceed ahn05l continually by figures, allegories. symbols."'
u
IJS·',· I Miserable SOlUlet by Sainle-Scuve (I.es ConJolationJ [Paris, 1863J. pp. 262-263): "I love Paris and its beautiful sunsets of autumn,'" with the dosing lines: "And I depart, in my thoughts mingling I Paris with an Ithaca of beautifu1 sunsets." (J50a,5] Charleti Mllgnin in his review IIf Le~ Poesie. d e Joseph Delorme, ill Le Globe. April 11 , 1829: ';Douhtlcss Ihe alexandrine wilh a variaLle Cllesura I:alls £or a stricter rhyme. -
Sainte-BellYe's characterization of hiBown poetry: " . hllve endeavored ... to bt: original in my fa Bhiun . which is humble Dud bourgoois , ... calling by their name the Ihingl! o£ private life, but pn!£erring Ihe tbatchetl COllage 10 lhe boudoir." V'te. ,wesies el Pf!Iueet de. Joseph Delurme (Parill, 1863 ), VI)I. I . p . 170 ('"Pensees," no _ 19). 1J5I ,31 With Sainte-Scuve, a standard of sensibility : "Ever since our poets, ... instead of saying 'a romantic grove,' a 'melancholy lake,' ... started saying 'a green grove' and 'a blue lake,' alarm has been spre:ading amo ng the disciples of Madame de Stacl and the Genevan school j and already complaints can be heard about the invasion of a new materialism . . . . Above all, there is a dread of monotony, and it seems far tOO easy and far tOO simple to say that the leaves are gtt=0l and the waves blue. On this point, perhaps, the adversaries of the picturesque deceive themselves. The leaves, in fact, are not always green; the waves not alwaY' blue. Or rathee, we find in natutt ... neither green, nor blue, nor red, propaly speak· ing; the natural colors of things are colors without names .... The pic.turesque is not a box of paints that can be emptied." <Sainte-Scuve, Vie, poijUj t.t Jnruiej tk ]U
The unique importance of Baudelaire resides in his being the £ina and the most unflinching to have taken the measure of dle self-estranged human being. in the double sense of acknowledging th.is being and fortifying it with annar against the reified world.m U5Ia,6] Nothing comes closer to the task of the ancient hero in Baudelaire's sense-and in his cennuy-than to give a fonn to modernity. U5Ia)] n
In the "Salon de 1846 (OnwreJ, vol. 2, p . 134), Baudelaire has described his social class through the clothes they wear. From this description it emerges that heroism is a quality of the on e who d escribes. and not at all a quality of his subject. The "heroism of modern life n is a subterfuge or, if you prefer, a euphemism. TIle idea of death, from which Baudelaire never broke loose, is the hollow matrix readied for a knowledge that was not his. Baudelaire's concept of heroic modernity, it would seem, was first of all this: a monstrous provocation. Ana10gy with Daumier. U52.1] Baudelaire's truest posrure is ultimately not that of Hercules at rest but that of the mime who has taken off his makeup. 1b.is gutus is found again in the "ebbings" of his prosodic construction-something that, for s~ra1 commentators, is the most precious clement of his ars poe/ita. [J52,2] January 15. 1866. on L.e Spleen tie PariJ: " Finally, 1 am bopeful tha t one ofthe&e days I'll be abll! 10 shuw a new Jo~eph Delorme linking his rhapsodic meditation to every chance event in hill Runerie." Ch<aril!s) B
wh ich creeps into the life of a rtists as into their w{lrks." Cit. R .• Oellvres. vol. 2. iJ. 2 11. 117" (J52,6] Baudelaire's usc of the concept "allegory" is not always entirely sure: "the . . . allegory of the spider weaving her web between the ann and the line of a fisherman, whose inlp atience never causes him to stir." Ch. B .• O I!UIJUJ, vol. 2, p. 204 ("'Qye.lques caric."lturistes errangers").717 (J52a, l] t\ga illst lht" proposition " TIlt' gcnius ma kes his ....ay:' Ch. B., OeuvreJ, vol. 2. [J52a,2] p. 203 (" Qudque! Cli riI:ultu·istell etnlllgers·'). AIJUut Cavarni: " Like tlU men of letters-being a man of Il!tlers h imself-he is slightly taint ed with .;orruption." Ch. B.. Ocltvre.s, vol. 2 , p. 199 ("Qucl1Iues caricjj lUr istes fru'IC;ltis'·) . ~;K [J52a,3] In "Qud{lu l!~ carica turisles fran'tai s," on a clt·awing by Oll uDlier dealing with dloler ll: " True 11.1 its ironic custom in times of great caianlil Y a nd jJolitical upheaval, till! sky of Paris is superb; it is quite white and inca ndescent wilb heat . .. • The squlI.re is dl!serted and like lin oven- more desolate, even. than a populous s'lullre after a r iot ." Cit. B. , Oeu vres , vol. 2, p . 193.2" [J52a,41 I.n Le Globe of March 15. 1830. Ouvergier de Ha uranne writell of !.eli Co n.1ola~ " h is 110 1 at all ce.l·taullhallhe Posillipu h as not inspired M. Sainte-Beuveas much as his Boulevard d ' Enfer" «cited in Sainte-Bellve, l.es Consoultiuns (Paris, 1863.1,) p. 114) . [J52a,5]
t io~:
Critique of JU5eph Delorme and Les COIIsoullions hy Farcy, a July insurgent who feU U. battle !lhortly after composing thelle lines: " Libertinism is poetic when it is a tra nsport of impassioncd principle ill li S, when it is audacious philo~o phy, bllt Dot whell it is merdy a furtive aherTlltiun. a shameful cOlifeSlliuJl . This stale Qf mind ... iJi acrordll ... v';th the poet. who should always go along unaffe('t..d . with head held high. and who requires ('nthllsiasnl . or tile bitler deiJths of passiun ." From tile manullcript published by C. A. Sainte-Relive in !.e, Coruolationll: P~ n,ee. c/ 'I/Oj'it (Pa ris, (863) . 1'. 125 . [J52a,6} Frum the rritillue of Sailltr- Bell vc hy Farc)': " If the t rllwll is intolerable til him , tilt' vaSlut'lIs of Spat;e o ppres~es him evell 0101"(:, II situ ation thaI is I ~ss poetic. Re hilS lIot shl)wlI th e pr ide or the range 1& take command of all this nallLre, 10 1i8tt'n to it, IIlld c l·~ t ll lld it. allli n·mlcr its gra ntl s pcc.:tacles." ; ' I-I ~ was r ight ," comments Sa illte- BNIW' (p. 126). C. A. Saillte-Oeu vc. !.es CQ" sola(ion.~: Pe ll.1ee8 d '(IO(i( Po';sie~ de Sfl i/Ue-Hell v~. part 21 (I'nriil . IH(3), p . L25. [J52a,7]
r Ajl r o p o~
of Pilld li , in "Qudques ca ricuiliris h:~ etnmgcrs" : '" wish thai 8omeone would in V'·11I it neologism. tllat 11111111:0 111: would mallufaclurt' a wunl {Icslilled 10 destroy one" a nd for IIU thill species of p tlllcif-the IJOncijill (;{lfldtiCI und beha vior.
Baud elaire's OCUVH! has perhaps gained inlportance-mora! as well as Iiterarythrough the fact that he left no novel. [J52a,8]
c h uma.n Tht: , mentaJ capacities that matter in Baudelairt: are "souvenirs" 0 r·ale be mg. somewhat the way medieval allMFnries are souveninl of gods "B d 1 ' ' ' Cl dd -0. . aUearrc, au ~ncc wrote, "takes as his subject the only inner experience lert to people of th~ runetccnth ce:ntury-namdy, mnoese." Now. this very likely paints too rosy a P IClUJ"e : remorse was no less past its time than o ther inner t"~ ~ I . dR ' - or--' .....nca onncr y tanornte. emorse m Baudelaire is mc~ly a sou ve~ like . I d ' , repentance ~c . lOpe, an ~ven.~s.ulSh. wbidl was ovenaken the moment it relinquished Its place to morne mom oslJe (glum indifference)" -
me
.
lJ53,2~
The b~er, whose startled gaze falls on the fragment in his hand, becomes an allegonst.
1153 ,3]
If "te call t,o min~ j~t hoY.: much Baudelaire as a poet had to respect his own precepts, his own Wights, his own taboos, and how saictly circumscribed on the othe~ han~, the tas~ of his poetic labor were, then we may come to see ~ him a ~IC ~t. Th~ 15 no ~ther book of poems in which the poet as such presents himself WIth so little varuty and so much force. 11lis fact provides a basis for the frequent comparison with Dante. U 53,4) What proved so fascinating to Baudelaire in late Latin literature, particularly in Lucan, may have been tile use this literature made of the names of gods-a practice in which it prq>ared the way for allegory. Usenu discusses this.2lI1 (]53,5)
SCleneli (lr horror in Lucan : tile Thessalian witciJ Erichtho, and the Jlrora nation or tbe dead « BeilJml civile,> book 5. lineR 507-569); the desecration or the head or Pompey (book at Iille& 663-691); M~ lu lia (book 9, liues 624-653). [J53,6)
"Lc: Goucher du solcil romantique"~landscape as allegory.
The passion fo r ships and fo r self-propelled toys is, with B3ud~. perhaps only another expression of the discredit into which. in his view, the world of the organic has fallen. A sadistic inspiration is palpable here. [J53a.2]
U53,1)
As ~udelaire, after 1850, took up the doctrine of l'arl pour f'art, he expli 'll cam~ through a renunciation ~hich he had undenaken in sovereign spirit a~th~ very mSlanl he made allegory mla the annaturr: of his poetry; he gave up win art as category of the totality of existence.
ated from the antique world, as from the Christian, no more than he needed to set going in his poetry that primordial experience-which had a substrate en· tirdy sui generis. [J53a, L]
U53,7)
Antiquity and Christianity together determine the historical annature of the allegorical mode of perception ; they provide the lasting rudiments of the firs t alle~ri~ ~encc:-~t of the High Middle Ages. "The allegorical o utlook has Its ongrn m tile con.llict betwecn. the guilt-laden physu, held up as an example by Christianity, and a purer natura demlm [nature of the gods]. embodied in the ~theon. With the revivaJ of paganism in the: Renaissance., and of Christianity 111 the Counter-Refonnation. allegory, the form of their conflict. also had to be renewed " « Walter Benjamin,> Urspnmg des deutschm T'rau mpiels (Berlin, 1928], p- 226).ZItt In Baudelaire' s case, the m atler is clarified if we reverse the fonnula. The allegorical experience was primary for him; o ne can say that he appropri-
'-All the Dli;;cr~a ntll o£ m~ lodrllma-acl1 urRed , rlamn t.-d , and ratall), marked witb a grin which runs from ea r to ear-are in Ihe pure orlilollollY or laughter • . . . !..pughler illsalanie; it is thURpro£lIundJy human ." Ch _ B., Oellvre!. vol. 2, p . 171 C'Oe " Essence du rire"). ~I [J53a,3)
It is a shock that brings someone engrossed in reverie up from the depths. Medieval legends invoke the state of shock peculiar to the researcher whose lonbrlng fOT more-tllan-human wisdom has led him to magic; the experience of shock is cited here as the "derisive laughter of hell." "Here ... the muteness of maller is overcome. In laughter, above all, matter takes on an abundance of spirit, in highly ceccoaic d isguise. Indeed, it becomes so spiritual that it far outstrips languagt. Aiming stili higher, it ends in shrilllaughte:r" (Ur;prung des deutschen 'fraumpieu, p. 227) .:IM Not only was sllch strident laughter characteristic of Baudelaire; it reechoed in his ear and gave him much to think about. [j53a,4) Laughter is shattered articulation.
U54 ,1)
On the Bight of images and the theory of swprise, which Baudelaire shared with Fbe: "'Allegories become dated because it is part of their nature to shock."* The succession of allegorical publications in the Baroque represents a sort of Sight of images. [J54.2] On peai6ed unrest and the Bight of images: "The same tendency is characteristic of Baroque lyric. TIle poems have 'no forward movemeOl, but they swell up from v.rithin.' If it is to hold its own against the tendency toward absorptio n, the allegorical must constantly unfold in new and surprising ways." Urspnmg. p_ 182 (citing Fritz. Strich).U1 [J54,3) O nce the scheme of allegory has been metaphysically detennined according to its thredold illusionary nature. as "illusion of freedom - in the exploration of what is fo rbidden ; .. _illusio n of independence-in the secession from the conununity of the pious; ... illusion of infinity- in the empty abyss of evil" (Ursprung, p. 230),then nothing is easier than to assimilale whole groups of Baudclaircan poems to this design. TIle first pan can be represented by tile cycle "Aeurs du nlal"j the second pan. by the cycle "Revelte"; while the third could be elaborated without difficulty from "Spleen et ideal!' U 54,41
The image or petrified unrest, in the Baroque, is "the bleak confusion or GoI· gotha, which can be recognized as the schema underlying lhe allegorical figures in hundreds or the engravings and desoiptions or the period" (Ursprun~
~- ~
~~
rine extent of Baudelaire's impatience can be gauged from these lines in "Sonnet d'automne": "My hean, on which everything jars I except the candor of the primitive animal."N:I 1J54,6] Experiencel emptied ou t and deprived oftbe.ir substance: "'Last ... we I [of the] Muse's priesthood ... I have drunk without thirst and eaten without hu nger!" ("L ' Examen de minuit n) .:¥1 (J54,7J
Art appears truly bare and austere in the light of an allegorical consideration:
beclllll5e or t.he greedy Irony which infiltrate. m)' 8O,,1? ,. L' II e ll III U II timorou nu':nos. '>:0<:;
(J54a,3j
;'La Bcaute"~ntails petrifaction, but not the unrest on which the gaze of the
a1legOr1st falls,
1J54a,4)
011 Ihe felill b :
Pre('ioU8 min .. ra la rorm her poliahed eyCli. ami in her ~tntng(' symbolic nature where aogt-I and 8ilhin~ uDil t-. where diamoo.! , "ohi . and t teel dbllol ...e iotoone light. "hines fore... e r, USCIClii U a Blar, Lhe IIlerile womao's icy majelly.
]J5b,5]
And on that last and terrible day,
" A...ee ses "etenll~nts ...•'t9~
To escape the vengeance from above, He must show barns whose uttenn05t Ra:esscs swell with ripened pain, And blooms whose shapes and hues will gain The suffrage of the Heavenly HOSLm
" For 1I0urs? Forever! luto that splendid mane I let me braid ruhiea, ropell of pea rls to bind I you indissolubly to my desire.'" ("La Chevelure.")::0111 1J54a,6)
"La Ranc;:on." Compare "Le Squelette labouTC:ur."
[J54,8]
COllcernjng the ....strange set:tioning of time," the final stanza of " L' Avertisseur":
1J54a,1}
AboUI laughter : " Beguiled lIy ghostl y laugbler in the air I llis reasou fallers. grasps at phantom ,trllws," (" Sur l..e TUlle en priJon d'Eugene Oelacroix .") )liMmirth i8 the re ...eue or Melmoth 'llneer Or Ihe t nickering or MeV hi~ lo"heICli. lir ked by the lurid lighl or II Fury"8 tord. thai burns them to a eri!!, liulln ...e! UI cold, " Vcrl! pnur Ie portrait de M. Honore Oaumier. 'r.!'Jol
Society of the Second Empire: \'ictinu! in teart. the hangman g1oriflcd; the hanquet 5eIllODed and {ClItoonw with blood: the poi!iOn or lHlwer dOg.'l the dupot'l "'eins, and the proplt. kjijA the knout thal lCOurgel them .
Despile whal he ma y hope or plan, There i. no momeDlleft when man h nol l ubjeclto the conijlanl Warning' o(thjij odious Serpent .:l'Jl To be cumpared with "L ' Horloge" and " Reve parisien:'
When he went to meet the: conswnptive Negress who lived in the city, Baudelaire saw a much truer aspect of the French colonial empire than did Dumas when he took a boat to Tunis on commission from Salvandy. U54a,7]
" IA! Voyage. " :1W
{j55,I]
The domb: " I..e Voyage," section 4 , slanza 3,
{j55,2]
AUlumnal motif: " L'Ennemi ," "L' lnlprevu," "Semlter Eadem :'
[J;;.']
Sa t:m in " Les Litanies de Salim" : " grea t killg of subterranean things'·- "-Yoll ""hose Ilright eye knows the deep ari;euals I Where tht: Imrie!1 race of mdalB shlmbers. ~:tw [J55,4] [J54;i,2}
C rllni t' r cit: Cossoglll.IC'S theory ofthe s ubhnma ll , with regard to " Abel et Ca\'n .'"
[J55,5] The derisive laug hler frolll the clouds iJl " I...a Deatric.. ," For I_a m I n••1 a d;&IIo.. all" .. in II.e ~Ii ...;ne areo rd ,
On rhe Christian de:termination of allegory : it has no platt in the: cycle [J55,6] "Revolte."
00 allllgo'1': "L'Amour etlecl"iine: ViCIIX Cul-tle-Iampe," " AlJegurie.'" "Une GrQ_ \'ure fuRlusliqut•. •• [J55,7]
.~
j
.
... The sky wu NUlIVI'. Ihe l!oCa lier ll ne; for me from now ull {'vl'r),d,illg was loJou/l)' IInil Mack - Ihe worse for lfIe--and as ifin a shroud my " "arI18Y huried in this p U ~gory .
"Un Voyage a Cythcre. " .\(11
"Steeling my nerves to play
Baude.laire's aUegory bears traces of the violence that was necessary to demolish [J55a,3] the harmonious fa~de of the world that surrounded him.
[j5S.'] /I.
hero's part" ("1.e8 Sept Vieillards ' '). ~
have been under the compulsion o f returning at least once to each of his main motifs. [J55a,2]
In B1anqui's view of the world, petrified unrest becomes the status of the cosmos itself. llte course of the world appears, accordingly, as one great aUegory. [JS5a,4]
[j55.'] Petrified unrest is. moreover, the formula for Baudelam:'s life history, which (J55a,5] k.nows no development.
"Les Sept Vieillards" on the subject of etemal sameness. Chorus girls. [j5S.l0] List of allegories: Art. Love, P/e(uure, Repentance. Ennui, Dcstructi(lll , the Now, Time, Death , Feur, Sorrow, Evil , Truth, Hope, Vengeance. Hate, Respe1:t , JealOUIlY, Thoughlll. (J55, ll) " L' I rremediahlc"--(Jutalogue of emblems.
TIle state of tension subsisting between the most cultivated sensibility and the JIlost intense contemplation is a mark of the Baudelairean. It is reflected theoreti· cally in the doctrine of correspondences and in the predilection for allegory. Baudelaire never attempted to establish any sort of relations bet'Neen these. Nevertheless, such relations exist. [J55a,6)
[j55. l2]
The allegories stand for that which the commodity makes of the experiences people have in this century. (J55,13] T he wish to sleep. "1 hate all passion, and wit grat es on me" (" Sonnet II ' a utullllle").3II.1 [j55.l4] " A slnuollS Reece ... I .. . which in darkllcs~ rivals yo u , 0 Night , I deep and spreading shl rless Night!" (" Les Promesses d'un visage" ). 36 1 {J55, JS]
" The tliuying stairs that swaUow up his soul" ("S ur Le Taue en prisml J ' Ellgene Ddacroix").30:; (J55,16] The affinity Baudelaire felt for late Latin literature is probably corutected with his passion for the allegorical art that had its first flowering in the High Middle Ages. [J55.17] To attempt to judge Baudelaire's intellectual powers on the basis of his philosophical digressions, asJules Lemaitre has done,lOIi is ill·advised. Baudelaire was a ?ad philosopher, a better theorist in matters of art; but only as a brooder was he ~ncomparablc. H e has the stereorypy in motif characteristic of the brooder, the ~mperturbability in warding off disturbance, the readiness each rime to put the Image at the beck and call of the thought. The brooder is at home among allegories. {j55a,l] 111e atQ'aeuon whic.h a few basic situations continually exerted on Baudelaire belong! to the complex of symptoms associated with melancholy. He appears to
Misery and terror-which, in Baudelaire, have their arrnarure in allegorical perception-have become, in Rollinat, the object of a genre. (I'his genre had its "artistic headquarters" at Le Chat Noir cafe. Its model, if you will, may be found in a poem like uLe Vm de I'assassin." Rollinat was one of the house poets at Le Chat Noir.) [JSSa,7] "De J'Essence du rire" con tains the theory of sat.an.ic laughter. In this essay, Baudelaire goes so far as to adjudge even smiling as fundamentally satanic. Contemporaries testified LO something frightful in his own manner of laughing. [j55 •••] 1ltat which the allegorical intention has fixed upon is sundered from the custom· ary COnlexts of life: it is at once shattered and preserved. Allegory holds fast to the ruins. Baudelaire's desbUctive impulse is nowhere concerned with the aboli· tion of what falls to it. (But compare. "Rcvolle," J55,(6~ . ) [J56,1] Baroque allegory sees the cOlllsC only from the outside; Baudelaire evokes it from within. [J56,2] Baudelaire's invectives against mythology recall those of lhe medieval clerics. He especially detests chubby·c.heeked Cupid . His aversion to this figure has the same roots as his hatred for Beranger. [J56,3] Baude.laire regards art's workshop in itself [as a site of confusionJ as the "appara· tus of dCSbUction " wruch tbe allegories so often represent. In the notes he left for a preface to a projected third edition of U j Fleur; du mal, he writes: "Do we show
the p~blic ... the mechanism behind o ur effCct.'l? ... Do we display all the rags. the pamt, the pulleys, the chains, the altcrations, the scribbled-over proof sheets_ in short, all the horrors that make up thc sanctuary of art?" Ch. B., O~II/Jres, vol. I , p. 582.(j56,4j Baudelaire a8 mime : ""Being a, chaste a8 paper. a s sober a8 willer, 8S devoUI 88 a WOlnall al Holy Communion. as harmless 88 a sacrificia l lamb, I would 1101 he displeased 10 he taken (or a lecher, a drunkard, an infidel. a murderer." Cb. D., Oeu vres, yul. I , p. 582 (Sludies (or a p reface 10 Us FIe",.s d" mal).lo.o!I 1156.5] Solely (or the p uhlicalion o( l.es Fk urs du mal and Petits Poemes en prose. Baudelaire 8ent nOliCf:1 to more than twenly-five periodicals. 11 0 1 oounting the new.papen . 1156.6] BarOllue detailing or the remale body: "Le Beau Navire" (The Fine Ship). To the contrary: "Tout eotiere"
in hi, "Confe85iOIl. " :JI1'I
1156,8J
Fetish : "who 1I0W. rrom Pit 10 Empyrean scorned I by aU but me ... I ... I my jel-eyed . Iiltue. angel with brazen brows!" (" J e Ie donne ce8 ven. ")~I' 1156,9] II
Christ." ("w [J56a, 11
1156.,2)
"La Muse venal" shows to what degree Baudelaire occasionally saw the publica· tion of poems as a fonn of prostitution. [J56a,3] " Your Chridian blouclstreum coursi ng strong I and s t epd fa~t us the copious ClaaaiCKI vein." ("LII Muse ma lade. ")~I J [j!i6a ,4]
In Baudelaire's case, the really decisive indication of class betrayal is nOI the integrity which forbade his applying for a government" grant bUI the incompatibility he fell with the ethos ofjoumali.sm.
Rov,rers adorn the individual stations of this Calvary [of male sexualiry]. They are 80wers of evil. (J56a.8]
UJ Flt:UrJ du rrw.1 is the last book of poems to have had a European·wide rcverberation. Before. that: Ossian, and H eine's Buch tkr Liedl'r
ishes fro m his world.
l'iU Obli vion HiD gl them into iu hod And giveJ tb;;nl over lu Eternity!
" An echo rel>eated by a thousand labyrinths." ("Les Phares.")JII
TIle portrayal of the crowd in Poe shows that the description of confusion is nOI the same as a confused descriptio n. [J56a,7]
In Blanqui's cosmology, everything hinges o n the stars, which Baudelaire ban-
fhnt it', roolish 10 build illlyt.hing on human hearts-For IIV1':l'}'thing cracb, ye •• t'ven love and beaut y.
'·M.,iebela nge!o I No man 's land wher(' every UercuJes I heeomes Phares.")lll
to the doctrine of German Ide.alism no less than that of French eclecticism-an and profane exislence are. merged. [J56a,6]
{.I56a,5]
Allegory views existence, as il does art, under the sign of fragmentation and ruin. L'lIri pour J'ari ettcts the kingdom of art o utside profane existence. Common to both is the renunciation of the idea of harmonious totaliry in which-according
[J56a,lI ]
The renunciation of the magic of distance is a decisive moment in the lyric poetry of Baudelaire. It has found its s~ign fomlUlation in the first stanza of "Lc \ byage." [J56a,12] It belongs 10 the Via Oolorosa of male sexuality that Baudelaire perceived prcgnancy, in some degrtt, as unfair competition. On the other hand, solidarity between impotence and sterility, U57,l] TIle passage in which Baudelaire speaks of his fascination with painled theatrical backdrops-Where? Qia,4. (j57,2] Baudelaire's destructive impulse is nowhere concerned with the abolition of whal falls to it. This is re8ecled in his allegory and is the condition of its regressive tendency. On the other hand, allegory has to do, precisely in its destructive furor, with dispelling the illusion that proceeds from all ~ given order," whether of art or of life: the illusion of totality o r of organic wholeness which transfigures that Qrder and m akes it seem endurable. And this is the progressive lendency of allegory. [J57.31 %enever humanity-aspiring after a purer, mo re innocent, more spirirual exist· ence t.han il h..1.S been granted-looked arowld for a token and pledge of this existence in nature, it generally found it in the plant or animal kingdom. Not so Baudelaire. His dream of such an existence disdains community with any tem::strial nanm: and holds to the clouds. Man y ofhis poems contain cloud motifs (nOt
to mention the transfiguration ofPari5 in "Paysage" (Landscape.). What is most appalling is the defilement of me clouds ("La Beatrice"). [J57.4]
conjuttd by "Le Solei1," no less than in the allegorical evocation of the Louvre in "Le Cygne." 1J5h,3]
From m e perspective of spleen, the buried man is the "transcendental su~ect of history." :)u [J57,5]
On the physiognomy of Baudelaire. as that of the mime: Courbet reports that he looked different every day. [J57a,4]
Baudelaire's financial misery is a moment of his personal Golgotha. It has fur. Dished, together with his erotic misery, the defining features of the image of the poet handed down by ttadition. The Passion of Baudelaire: understood as a redemption. [J57.6]
With the inhabitants of Romance·language nations, a refinement of the sen· sorium does not diminish the power of sensuous apprehension. With the Ger· mans, on the other hand, the refinemcnt, the advancing cultivation of sensuous enjoyment is generally purchased .,."jth a decline in the an of apprehension; here, the capacity for pleasure loses in conccnttaOOll what it gains in delicacy. (Com· pare the "reek of wine-casks"llt in "Lc VUl des chiffonniers.") 1J57a,5]
Let us emphasize the solitude of Bauddaitt as a counterpan to that of Blanqui. The lauer, too, had a "destiny etemally solitary" ("Mon Coeur nUs nu," no. 12).m (j57,7]
a
On the image of the crowd in Poe: H ow well can the image of the big city turn out when the register of its physical dangers-to say nothing of the danger to which it itselfis exposed-is as incomplete as it is at the time of Poe or Baudelairc.? In the crowd, we see a presentiment of these dangers. (jS1,8]
The eminent aptitude for pleasure on the part of a Baudelaire has nothing at all to do with any son of coziness. The fundamental incompatibility of sensuous pleasure with what is called GemiiJlidlAeit is the mark of an authentic culture of the senses. Baudela.irc.'s snobbism is the eccentric repudiation of complacency, and his satanism is the readiness to subvert this habit of mind wherever and whenever it should arise. [JSB, I]
Baude\airt's readers are men. It is men who have made him famous ; it is them he has redeemed?" [J57,9]
The streets o r Paris, in Meryon's rendering, are chasms, high above which 80at the clouds. [J58,2]
Baudelaire would never have written poems, if he had had merely the motives for doing so that poets usually have. (j57a,1]
Baudelaire wanted to make room for bis poems, and to this end he had to push aside others. He managed to devalue certain poetic liberties of the Romantics through his classical deployment of rhyme, as he devalued the ttaditional alexan· drine through his introduction of certain ebbings and points of rupture. In shon, his poems contained special provisions for the elimination of competitors.
On impotence. Bauddaire is a "maniac, in revolt agairut his own impotence." Incapable of satisfying the sexual needs of a woman, he made a virtue of necelI' sity in sabotaging the spiritual needs of his contemporaries. He himself did not fail to notice the connection, and his consciousness of this COlUlection is seen most clearly in his style of humor. It is the cheerless humor of the rebel, not for a moment to be confused with the geniality of scoundrels, wbich at that time was already on the rise. TIlls type: of reaction is something very French; its name, fa. rognt, is not easily rendered into other languages ."1 (j57il,2J
It is in its transitoriness that modernity shows itself to be u1timatdy and mast intimately akin to antiquity. The uninterrupted resonance which u.s F7ror.s du mal has found up through the present day is linked to a certain aspect of the urban scene, one that carne to light o n1y with the city's entry intO poetry. It is the aspect least of all expected. What ma.kes itself felt through the evocation of Paris in Baudelaire's verse is the infirmity and decrepitude of a great city. Nowhere, perhaps, has this b«n given more perfect expression than in the poem "Cripus' cule du marin," which is the awakening sob of the sleeper, reproduced in the matcrials of urban life. Th.is aspect, however, is more or Jess common to the whole cycle of "Tableaux parisicns;" it is present in the transparence of the city, as
[J58,3]
Baudelaire was perhaps the first to have had the idea of a market-oriented origi· nality. which JUSt for that reason was more original in its day than any other. The crlation of his poncym led him to adopt methods that were the stock in trade of the competition. His defamatory remarks about Musset o r BCranger have just as much to do.,."jth this as his imitations of Vicror Hugo. [J58,4) Ibe relation of the crowd to the individual comes, practically of itself, to unfold as a metaphor in which the differing inspirations of these two poets-Hugo and Baudclaire-can be grasped. \-\breis. like images, present themselves to Hugo as a surging, relentless mass. With Baudelaire, in COntrast, they take the side of the solitary who, to be sure, fades into the multitude, but not before appearing with singular physiognomy to o ne who allows her gaze to linger. U58.5] What good is talk of progress to a world sinking into rigor mortis? Baudelaire found the ~ence of such :\ world set dO\..'Tl with incomparable power in the
work of Poe, who thus became irreplaceable for him. Poe: described the world in which Baudelaire's whole poetic c.merprise had its prerogative. £158,6) .~
I.
TI1C idea of Baudelaire's ae...thetic Passion has given to many parties in the critical titeramre on Baude.l.a.iff the cluracter of an image d'Epinal. These colon=:d prints, as is wcll known, often showed scenes &om the lives of saints. (J58a.l) There are weighty historical circumstances making the Golgotha-way of impotencc trod by Baudelaire into one marked out in advana= by his society. Only this would explain how it was that he drew, as traveling expenses along the way, a precious old coin from among the accumulated treasures of this society. It was the coin of allegory, with the scythe·wielding skeleton all. one side, and. on the o bverse, the figure of M elancholy plunged in meditation. [J58a,2) That the stars do not appear in &udelaire is the surest indicator of that tendency of his poetry to dissolve illusory appearanc.es.~ [J58a,3) The key to Baudelaire's relationship with Gautier is to be sought in the man=: or Icss clear awarencss of the younger man [?J that even in art his destructive impulse encounters 110 inviolable limit. In fact, such a limit cannot withstand the allegorical intention. Moreover, Baudelaire could hardly have written his essay on Dupont if the critique of the concept of art entailed by the latter's established practice had not corresponded to his own radical critique. 10 referring to Gautier, 1J58a,4) Baudelaire successfully undertook to cover up these tendencies.
In the flancur, onc might say, is reborn the son of idler that Socrates picked out from the Athenian marketplace to be his interlocutor. Only, there is no longer a Socrates. And the slave labor that guaranteed him his leisure has likewise ceased to exist. [J58a,5) Streets of ill repute. Considering the importance of forbidden fonns of sexuality in Baudelaire's life and work, it is remarkable that the bordello plays no role in either his private documents or his work, There is no counterpart, within this sphen::, to a poem such as "Lc: Jeu.'" The brothel is named but once: in ilLes Deux Bonnes Soeurs." [J58a,6) For the £Ianeur, the "crowd" is a veil hiding the "'massCS."ll1
[J5 •. ' ]
That Hugo's poetry takes up the motif of table·turning is perhaps less noteworthy than the fact that it was regularly composed in the presence of such phenom· ena. For Hugo in exile, the unfathomable, insistent swann of the spirit world takes the place of the public. [J59,3) The primary interest of allegory is not linguistic but optical. "Images-my great, my primitive passion...,w [J59.41
TIle elaborate theorems with which th(' principle of "art for art'S sake" W~ enunciated by its original propon('nts, as by subsequent literary history, ultimately come down to a specific thesis: that sensibility is the true subject of poetry. Sensibility is, by its namn::, involved in suffering. If it experiences its highest concretization, its richest determination, in the sphere of the erotic, then it must find its absolute consummation, which coincides with its transfiguration, in the Passion. It will define the idea of an "aesthetic Passion." The concept of the aesthetic appe.'U'S here with precisely the signification that Kierkegaard gives it in his erotology. [j59,5)
us
TIle poetics of l'nrt pour I'art blends seamlessly into the aesthetic Passion of Fleurs du mal. [j59,6] The "loss of a halo'Ul.1 concerns the poet first of all. H e is obliged to exhibit himself in his own person on the markd. Baudelaire played this role to the bilt. His famous mythomania was a publicity stunt. [J59,7) The new dreariness and desolation of Paris, as it is described by Veuillot, comes on the scene, together with the dreariness of men's attire, as an essential moment in the image of modernity, [j59,8) Mysti6cation, with Baudelaire. is an apotropaic magic, similar to the lie among prostitutes. [J59,9) The commodity form emerges in Baudelaire as the socia1 content of the allegorical fonn of perception. Forn} and content are united in ~ prostiWtc, as in their synthesis. [J59,10] Baudelaire perceived the significance of the mass-produced article as clearly as did Balzac. In this, his "Americanism," of which Laforgue speaks. has its firmest foundation. He wanted to create a pon#, a cliche. Lc:maitn: assures him that he succeeded. (J59a, l) Apropos of Valery's reflections on the situation of Baudelaire. It is im ponant that Baudelaire met wilh competitive relations in the production of poetry. Of course, rivalry between poets is as old as the hills. But in the period around 1830. these rivalries began to be decided on the open market. It was victory in that field-and not the paU'onage of the gentry, princes, or the clergy-that was to be won. TIus condition weighed more heavily on the lyric than o n othe.r fonns of poetry. The disorganization of styles and of poetic schools is the complement of that market, which reveals itself to the poet as the "public." Baudelaire was not based in any sty le. and he had no scllool. It was a rea] discovery for him that he was competing against individuals. 1J59a.2)
US Flnm du mtll may be considered an arsenal. Baudelaire wrote certain of his poems in order to destroy others written before him. [JS9a,3] No one ever felt less at home in Paris than Baudelaire. Every intimacy with thinJ;l is alien to the allegorical intention. To touch on thing5 means, for it, to violate tllCffi. To recognize thing5 means, for it, to see through them. 'Wherever the allegorical intention p~vails, no habits of any kind can be fonned. H ardly has a thing been taken up than allegory has dispensed with the situation. Thing and simation become obsolete for allegory more quickly than a new pattern for the milliner. But to become obsolete means: to grow strange. Spleen lays down centuries betv·:een the present moment and the one just lived. II is splcen that tirelessly genCTates "antiquity." And in fact , with Baudelaire, modernity is nothing other than the "newcst antiquity." Modemity, for Baudelaire, is not solely and not primarily the object of his sensibility; it is the object of a conquest. Modernity has, for its annaturc, the allegorical mode of vision. [J59a,4] The correspondence between antiquity and modernity is the sole constructive conception of history in Baudelaire. With its rigid armature, it excludes every dialectical conception. [J59a,5] On the phrasc, "I have little to do with such things,",m in the draft of a preface to UJ Fletm du mal. Baudelaire, who never founded a family, has given the word "familiar" in his poetry an inflection filled with meaning and with promise such as it never before possessed. It is like a slow, heavily laden haywagon in which lhe poet cans [0 the bam evuything which throughout 1m life he had to renounce, Compare "Correspondances." "Boh6niens en voyage," "Obsession." [J60, l}
masses all its public. Particularly vulnerable to these developm~ts , ~ ~n. be seell now unmistakably in our century, was the lyric. It is the uruque dlStmctJo~ of Us Fit!urJ du mal that Baudelaire responded to precisely these altered conditions with a book of poe.ms. It is the best example of heroic conduct to be found in '"' life. [J60,6j 11le heroic bearing of Baudelaire is akin to that of Nietzsche. 'Though Baudelaire likes to appeal to Catholicism, his historical experi.ence is !lO nethel~s that ,:,hich NietzSChe fixed in the phrasc "God is dead." In NIetzsche s case, this expcnence is projected cosmologically in tlle thesis that nOthin.g new occurs an~ more. In Nieu.sclle, the accent lies on eternal recurrence. which the hwnan being has to face with heroic composure. For Baudelaire, it is more a matter of "the new." which must be wrested heroically from what is always again the sanle. [J60.7] The hiswrical experiences which Baudelaire ,vas one of the first to undergo (it is no accident that he belong5 to the generation of Marx. whose principal Vt'Ork. appeared in the year of his death) have become. in o~r day, only more ~dc sp~ad and persistent. The traits displayed by capitaJ mJune 1848 have, .smce then. been engraved still more sharply in the ruling classes. And the particular diffirultics involved in mastering the poetry of Baudelaire are the obverse of the ease with which one can give oneself up to it. In a word, there is nothing yet obsolete about this poetry. This fact has detennmed the character of most of the books concerned with Baudelaire: they are feuilletons on an expanded scale. [J60., l j
The passage "where everything, even horror, turnS to magic"325 could hardly be bener exemplified than by fue's description of the crowd. [J60,2}
Particularly toward the end of his life, and in view of the limited success of .his work, Baudelaire more and more ~ himself into the bargain. He BW1g himself after his work, and thus, to the end. confirmed in his own person what he had said about the Wlllvoidable necessity of prostitution for the poet. (J60a,2)
Concerning the opening line from "La Servante au grand coeur": on the words "of whom you were so jt!alouJ'~'a falls an accent that one would not necessarily expect. The voice, as it were, draws back from jealous." Therein lies the frailty of this already long·past situation. (j60,3]
One encounters an abundance of stereotypes in Baudelaire, as in the Baroque poe~ , []60.,3j
On "Spleen I": through the word "mortality," the city with its offices and its statistical registers lies embedded in spleen, as in a picture puz.zle
For the decline of the aura. one thing within the realm of mass production is of overriding importance: the massive reproduction of the image. [J60a,41 Impotence is lhe key figure of Baudelaire's solilUde.w An abyss divides him from his fellow men. It is this abyss of which his poetry speaks. [J60a.5}
V\t may assume that the crowd as it appears in fue, with its abrupt and intennittem movements, is described quite realistically. In itself, the description has a higher truth. TIlese are less the movements of people braing about their .business than the movements of the machines they operate. VVith uncaruty foresIght, Poe scems to have modeled the gestures and reactions of the crowd on the rhytllOl of these machines. The 8aneur, at any rate, has no part in such behavior: Instead, he
fonus an obstacle in its path. l-Iis nonchalance would therefore be nothing othu than an unconscious protest against dle tempo of the production process. (Compare 02a, I.) [J60a.6J Fog appears as a consolation of the solitary man. It fills the abyss surrounding him, [J60a,7] Baudelaire's candidacy for the Academie was a sociological experiment. [J61 ,1] Series of types-from the national guardsman Mayeux, through Gavroche, to the ragpicker, to Vtreloque, to Ratapoil.3I' {J61 ,2] Baudelaire's allegorical mode of vision was not understood by any ofhis contemporaries and was thus, in the end, completely overlooked . [J61,3] Surprising proclamations and mystery-mongering, sudden attacks and impaletrable irony, belong to the raison d 'itat of the Second Empire and were characteristic of Napoleon III They are no less characteristic of the theoretical writings of Baudelaire. [J61,4] The cosmic shudder in Victor Hugo has litde in common with the naked terror that seized Baudelaire in his spleen. Hugo felt perfecdy at home in the "WOrld of the spirits. It is the complement of his domestic existence, which was itself not without horror. [J61,5] The veiled import of the first section of "Chant d'automne" : the season is named only in the tiny phrase "autumn is here,ltm and the following line says that, for the poet, it has no other meaning than as a foreboding of death. To him, it has brought no harvest. [J61 ,6]
In the guise of a beggar, Baudelaire continually put the modd. of bourgeois society to the test. His willfully induced, if not deliberately maintained, dependence on his mo ther no t only has a psychoanalytically identifiable cause; it also has a social cause. [J61 ,7] The labyrinth is the right path for him who always anives early enough at his destination. For the Saneur, this destination is the marketplace, [J61 ,8J The path of one who shrinks from arriving at his goal will easily take the form of a labyrinth, [For the Saneur, this goal is the marketplace.} The same holds for the social class dmt dOes nOt want to know where it is heading. Moreover, nothing prevents it from reveling in this roundabout way and hence substituting the shudder of pleasure for the shudder of death. This was the case for the society of the Second Empire. {j61,9]
\lVhat concemed Baudelaire was not manifest and short-term demand, but latent and long-term demand. U J F/~urJ du mol demonstrates not only that he correctly assesscd SUdl a demand but, in addition, that dtis sureness in evaluation is inseparable from his significance as a poet. {j61,1 0J One of the most powerful attractions of prostirutio n appears only with the rue of the metrOpolis-namcly, its operation in the mass and through the masses. It was the existcnce of the masses that first enabled prostirution to ovcrspread large areas ofthc city, whereas earlier it Imd been confined, if not to houses, at teast to the streets . TIle masses first made it possible for the sexual Object to be reflected simultaneously in a hundred different forms of allurement-fonus which the object itsdf produced. Beyond this, salability itself can become a sexual stimulus ; and this attraction increases wherever an abundant supply of women underscores their character as commodity, With the exhibition of girlsl:lO in rigidly uniform dress at a later period, the music hall review explicidy introduced the [J61a,ll mass-produced article into the libidinal life of the big-c.ity dweller.
As a matter of fact, if the rule of the bourgeoisie ......-ere one day to be stabilited (which never before has happened, and never can), dlen the vicissitudes of history would in actuality have no more claim on the attention of thinkers than a child's kaleidoscope, which with every tum of the hand dissolves the established order into a new array. As a matter of fact, the concepts of the ruling class have in every age been the mirrors that enabled an image of "order" to prevail. [J6Ia,2J
In L'Ettnliti par leJ astm, Blanqui displayed no antipathy to the belief in progress; between the lines, however, he heaped scorn on the idea, One should not necessarily conclude from this that he was untrue to his political credo, The activity of a professional revolutionary such as Blanqui does not presuppose any faith in progress; it presupposes only the detennination to do away with present injustice, The irreplaceable political value of class hatred consists precisely in its affording the revolutionary class a healthy indifference toward speculations concerning progress. Indeed, it is just as wonhy of humane ends to rise up out of indignation at prevailing injustice as to seek through revolution to better the existence of future generations. It is just as worthy of the human being; it is also more like the human being. Hand in hand with such indignation goes the linn resolve to snatch humanity at the last moment fro m thc catastrophe looming at every tum. That was the case with Blanqui, He always refused to develop plans for what comes "later." [J6 1a,3] Baudelaire was obliged to lay claim to the dignity of dIe poet in a society that had no more dignity of any kind to confer, Hence the bOlif[fJ1wm ·e of his public 1J62, IJ appearances. The figure of Baudelaire has passed into his fame. For the petty·bourgeois mass 1t of readers, his sto ry is an imag~ d'Epinal, an illustrated "life history of a libertine.
TIUs image has contributcd greatly to Baudelaire's reputation- little though its purvcyors may have numben:d among his fri ends, Over this image another imposC$ itself, one that has had a less widespread but more lasting effect : it shows Baudelaire as exemplar of an aesthetic Passion. [j62 ,2J TIle aesthete in Kierkegaard is p n=destined to the Passio n. See "'TIle U nhappiest M an" in Eitn"IOr. [j62 ,3] The. grave as the secret chamber in which Eros and Sexus settle their ancient quam:1. 1J62,4) The starS in Baudelaire present the rebus image
In the psychic economy, the mass·produced article appears as obsessio nal idea. ~t answers to no naturaJ need .} Th( n( urotic is compelled to channel it violendy . among the ideas within the naruraJ cirru1ation process. [J62a,l ] The idea o f eternal recu~nce transfonns the historical event itself into a mass' produced article. But this conception also displays, in another respect-on itS obverse side, one could say- a trace of the eco nomic circumstances to which it owes its sudden topicality. TIlis was manifest at the moment the security o f the cond itions o f life was considerably diminished through an accelerated succession o f crues. The idea o f demal recu~nce derived its luster from the fact that it was no longer possible, in all circumstances, to expect a recurrence of conditions across any in terval of time shorter than that provided by eternity. The quotidian constellations vcry gradually began to be less quotidian. Very gradually their recurrence became a little less frequent, and there could arise, in consequence, the. obscure presentiment that henceforth Olle must rest content with cosmic cons tellations. H abit, in shan, made read y to surn:nder some of its prerogatives. Niet7.sche says, "I l~ short-lived habits,".Jo.1! and Baudelaire already, throughout
his life, was incapable of d eVeloping regular habits. H abits arc the annature of lo ng experience <EifahNlllfP' whereas they are decomposed by individual experi· ences ,Erlehnwn. [.J62a.2] ;\ paragraph v f the ·' lJial.s8Ima la ad §I: illHum" d ~a l 8 widl horcdonl. It doseil with Ih." scntelll..'t.': " My 80ul i.s like the Dead Sell, over which no bird can fl y; wh~n it has flown mi.lway, then it IIinkll llowli to d'"8th lind dl:"struction." Soren Kierkegaard . ";"t weder-O,ler (J ena , 1911 ), vol. I , I)' 33. COnlJlare 'o J am a graveyard tbat the m uoll ahhurs" ("SpIt.'t:1l 11 ").= [j62a.3J Melallc.holy, prille. and imagl~s. "Carking care is my feudal castle. It is built like an eape's llcll llj)vn the IJeak of a mUlIIlIain 10RI ill the c1oudi. N o one can take it by sIQrm . From this abode I dar t down inlo Ihe worJd of re.ality 10 sei~e my prey; but I do 11 0 1 remain down there , I hear my quarry aloft to my strongbold . What I caplure arc illlugea:' Soren Kierkcgaard. Entwerle""()der (J ena, 1911 ), vol. 1. p. 38 (" Diapsalmata uti se illsum").a.J3 1162a,4)
On the use of tile lerm
" ae~ theLi c" in Kierkegaard. In c.boosing a gvvernellK. vile lakes i.lto aCl:ount " also her aellthclic qualificaLioJls for amusing the children." Sorcn Kierkeguu rJ , Enllllf!tler-Ode" (J ml8 , 19L1). vol. I , p. 255 ("The Rotation Methvd").»1 [J63.1J
8lantlui', jOllrney: " One lirell of Living in the cOllntry. and moves to the city: one tires of one', native hint!. and travels abroad ; one is europa miide
p. 133 ("'Equilibrium berween the Aesthetical and the Ethical in the Composition of Personality") .(j63,5) On the "8~Clio ll illr; of lime. " "Thill .. . i~ lhe most u.ICtI Ll lIte eJl:IIlT.lsion fur the aesthetic e,uslellce: it iii in the momelli . Hence till: prodigious usciUatiulll ltI which the mall wlllllive8 1lt:81lmlicaUy is exposed ." Kierkegurd, E'lhvede,...Od(!r. vul. 2, p. 196 (" Ell wlihrium between the Aeslhclical antlth c Ethical in the Compusition of Perso llalit y"). ~ (j63,6)
On impotence. Around the middle of the cenrury, the bourgeois class ceases to be occupied with the future of the productive forces it has unleashed. (Now appear those countcrpans to the great utopias of a More or Campanella, who had welcomed the accession of this class and affirmed the identity of its imel'C5ts with the demands of freedom and justice---'now appear, that is to say, the utopias of a Bdlamy or a Moilin, which are mainly concerned with touching up the notion of economic consumption and its incentives.) In order to concern itself further with the future of the productive forces which it had set going, the bourgeoisie would first of all have had to renounce the idea of private income. 1'bat the habit of "coziness" so rypical of bourgeois comfort around midcentury goes together with this lassirude of the bourgeois imagination, that it is one with the luxW}' of "never having to think about how the forces of production must develop in their hands" -these things admit of very little doubt. The dream of having children is merdy a ~ggarly stimulus when it is not imbued with the dream of a new nature of things in which these children might one day livt, or for which they can struggle. Even the dream of a "better humanity" in which our children would "have a ~tter life" is only a sentimental fantasy rc:miniscent of SpittWeg when it is not, at bottom, the dream of a ~tter nature in which ~ would live. (Herein lies the ine.xtinguishable claim of the Fourierist utopia, a claim which Marx had rc:cognU.ed (and which Russia had begun to aa onJ.) 1be latter dream is the living SOUItt of tile biological energy of humanity, whereas the former is only the muddy pond from which the stork draws children. Baudelaire's desperate thesis concerning children as the creatures closest to original sin is nOt a bad complement to this image. [J63a, l ) R~ Ihe dallces of ,I e~ th : " Modern artillll are far too neglectfu l of IlI oStl magnificent allegories of the MitldJe Age,:' Ch . B., Oeuure.!, vol. 2. jl. 257 (USal un de 1859") .~
"Of courie. Marl( ~O(J Engel.ll ironizetl an absolute idealis t faidl in Il,·ogren. (Engd ~ conIIne-lid, Fourier for havi n5 introduced the futu re JisllllPcarance of hUlllllrul y inlU his refleclionll 011 hiJtury, as Kant intrtHluced the futurtl dillaj>pearalice of lht" iwlar lIy811!IU. ) iu this COllllt!t:tiun. EU8e111 all o makes fun fif ' the talk ahQul alimitllhltl hllnlllP Jlf'rfoclibilily. ' ..= Leul!r of
TIle mythic eoncept of the task of the pott ought to ~ defined through the profane concept of the instnunent.- The great poet never confroms his work simply as the producer; he is also, at the same time, its consumer. NaturaUy, in contrast 10 the public, he consumes it not as entertainment but as tool. This instrUlllental charaaer represents a use value that does not readily enter into the exchange value. 1J64,3) On Baudelaire's "Crepusrule du soir": the big city knows no true evening twilight In any case, the arti.6.ciallighting does away with all transition to night. The same state of affairs is responsibJe for the fact that the stars disappear from the sky over the metropolis. Who ever notices when they come out? Kant's transcription of the sublime through "the starry heavens above Ole and the moral law 'Nithin memu could never have been conceived in these tenus by an inhabitant of the big ciry. [J64,4) Baudelaire's splem is the suffering entailed by the decline of the aura. "Adorable Spring has lost its perfwne .~ [J64,5) Mass production is the principal economic cause-and class warfare the principal social cause-of the decline of the aura. (J64a,1] Dtl Mais tre on the "lIava5e"-a refl ectioll direcleti agllirut Rousseau : "One need omy glance lit the savage to set: the cune written ... on tll tl ~xttlrDai form of his botl y.. .. A furmidaiJIe hand wt:ighing on these doomed raees wipes out in them the Iwo djs tinclive churacteris ti u of ou r grande ur: forellight and perfectibility. 'I'h(· sllvage culll the tree duwlI 10 gather the fruit ; he unyokes tlltl ox that the missiunllry hll 8 just ellu'usled 10 him , and cook, it with wuod from the pluw," Juseph lie MlliSlre. US Soirees de Sfl in,-petersbollrs. {:t! . Hattier (Pilril <1922». p. 23 (!wcond dialol-'uc).)\; 1J64a,2}
(j63a,2)
It is impotence that makes for the bitter aJp of male sexuality. From this impotence springs Baudelaire's attachment to the seraphic image of \\'Oman, as well as his fetishism . It follows that Kdler's "sin of the poet"-namcly, "to invent sweet images of ....,omen, I such as bitter eanh never barbors ":WL-is cenainly not his. Keller's WOOlen have the s.....eetness of chimeras. Baudelaire, in his female figures, remains prc:cise, and therefore French, because with him the fetishisti c and the seraphic clements do not coincide, as they al .....ays do in Keller. U64 ,lJ
Tlu· Kni!;llt in thc tiJird (Iiulnguc: " I "'·I.lIIM vcry IIlllch like. though it coil! IIl C dCIIl'iy. lu ,liscO\'{'I' I) truth Ca l)uiJle of d lOCkillg the whnle hUlIl uli race, l wtluld ~ Iut e it pluinly ttl eVCrYOlIl' 's fucc:' J 05cjJh de Maistrt, JA!S S fJjree.~ de SlIillt-Pelerslmllrg . l!tl. II l1ltier, p . 29. [J64a,3} "Bewurf'. uiJ(1 ve all . Olltl Vl!ry '·... 11111011 prej u clicl~ ... - namdy, the ht-li..f that the grtlut repllllll i,l ll of n hook Ilre.;tII/I'('lIeAa ll ")C:ll'Uloivtl a.1I1I l'eusun~IJ kfltlw!t..·dge of Ihu l I)f}uk. Such is not till' I·USI'. I u s~ urt: yl) U. T I II~ Ij; n 'HI majorit y are "ul'uhlc
or
i.
ju.lging solely b y the lighl ~ of a ratl lll-T , maU number of me n who first fldiver 10111 o pinio n . They pass on , and this t,opinion survives the m. The om.' books arrh 'ing on t.h l' IIc'rue leave 110 lime (or reading an y o tlu:r&; llnd 110011 1111: 8(' othe rs are jud gt:d (luly Ilccortliug 10 II vllgue re putatiull ." J OII""II de Maistre. t..e, Soireel de Sui,.,. f¥.ter , boIiTS. cd . Hattier (Paris). p. 4'1 (sixth dialogue). (J64a,4]
God appears in de Maistre as myJlm'um tmnmdum.l . '
" Tlu: wholt' cU TIIa . continually stet'pcd in blood , i ~ nothing hUl lHI imlll('1I8e altar On ....·hiell tll'cry Ih 'ing thillg must be sacrificed without enll. without restraint , without n"spite. until the consummation of the world , thl' extincti'~11 of c\-il , the death of dea th ," De MaiSlre , Soiree" ed . Hattie r. I), 61 (seventh llilllugue :"La Gue rrc"),:HII
Ln the seventh dialogue ('1...a Guern="), a series of sentences beginning with the fannula "War is divine." Among these, one of the most extravagant: "War is divine in the prou=etion granted to the great Ie:ade:n, even the most daring, who are rarely suuck down in barue:." Soiriej de Sainl·/flm bourg, pp. 61-62 .~
[J.b,S]
1J65a, IJ
Tbe characters in Soir&,J de Sailll·/flm bourg: the Knight has felt the influence o rVoltaire, and the Senator is a mystic, while the Count expounds !.he doctrine of the author himself. (J64a,6]
TIlcre is, in Baudelaire a latent tcnsion bet\',l~n the destructive. and the idyllic aspects of dcath-betw«=erl its bloody and its palliative: nature. [J65a.2]
u.s
" Out do you rewe. gentlemen , the 101ln::e of this HOOt! of iUl ulenl ductrines which uncc.n :mo niowl y judge Cod and caD him 10 account {or hi8 orde n? They com~ 10 us frolll that grt!a t pl.alam: we call .!(It/(IIlt,
[J.S. I] On judiciall,roccdurt's: "Ulldel"' the rule of Muslim law. lI utho rit y punis hea. e yeD widl ,Ieatb , the lIIall it tru.llM dellcnc. it. al the very 1Il0IlU'II! li nd place it !leUetl Ilim : tlUII Lrusque cllfOI"" 'clnCIII of the Illw. ""biuh hilS nflt lac kcd Mind admirc rH. i. IlI'vl,.·thdeSH 0111.1 uf till; IIIlIlIy pl'uofH of tim I.rutlllizatioll allli di vinc CC II SUI'C of Ih e6t. I~op l cs. Among UII. things arc Iluite lliffcNlllt . T he c ulprit lIIu ~ t I~ al"'rellctl; lit' mmit 1)(- c hargpd ; lit' IIIl1s t dcrelld IUlIIsdf; hc mUlIl ahu\'e all sdtJc hi.. cOllscicuce a mi his "" oddl y " Uain: prac ticallll"'l"'a nl;t'lIIclIIlI ful"' his I'ullis iullellllllust be mucic. F in uUy, 10 lak l, "ver yilling inlo IICCOlint. It (,(,rtain tinll' mus l h(, It'fl 10 ta ke him to til(' al)poillt.:d "lace of punu. hmcllt . The scaffold is an (liu,,'; it 1·11111101 th{'l'crore IJoe I'itlwr ~\'t up in u certain plnce o r nwv,'d , eXccl't II)· alttlwrily. The!;c ,Idays,
pruiseworthy in thei r very elulesHivc nes ... ye t still not lac king their 1,lillil dct.rac· are DU le6B a proof of o u.r s uperiority." DeMailllnl. I..e.Soiree. de Saint· (Jeter, oollrg . ed . Ha llicl' ( Paris). II. 78 (te Dth dialogueV'" [J65,2]
101"'5.
[J65.3)
J ugendsriJ phrasroJogy should still be considered progressive in Baudelaire. [J.S.,3] "Destruction's bloody rerinue"351is the coun of allegory.
[J.S.,4]
The historicism of the nineteenth century is the: background against which Baudela..i.rt.'s "pursuit of modernity" stands out. (Vtllemain, Cousin.) (J65a.5] So long as there is semblance in history, it will find in nature its ultimate refuge. The commodity, which is the last buming-glass of historical semblance <&heim, celebrates its triumph in the fact that nature itself takes on a conunodiry charac· ter. It is this commodity appearance <wo'rerucheim of nature that is embodied in the whore. "Money feeds sensuality." it is said, and this fonnula in itself affords only the barest outline of a state of affairs that reaches well beyond prostitution. U nder the dominion of the commodity fetish. the sex appeal of the: woman is more or less tinged with the appeal of the conunodity. It is no accident that the relations of the pimp to his gir"lfriend, whom he sells as an "ankle" on the market, have so inflamed the sexual fantasies of the bourgeoisie. The modem advertisement shows, from anodlu angle, to what extent the attractions of the \~'olllan and those of the commodity can be merged. The sexuality that in fonner tunes-on a social levcl-was stimulated through imagining the future of the producti\'e forces is mobilized now through imagining the J>O'o"er of capitaJ.
U·S, .•] llle circumstance of thc new is perhaps nowhere beller illuminated than in the figure or the Rancur. His thirst for the new is quenched by the crowd, which appears self·impelled and endowed with a soul of its own. In fact, this collective is nothing but appearance. This "crowd," in which the fl tineur takes delight. is just thc cmpry mold with which, st'venty years later, the lfJllc.sgemdmc!tajl (ltople's Community,U2 was cast. TIIC H5.neur who so pridcs himself on his alertness. on
his nonconfonnity, was in this respect also ahead of his contemporaries: he was the first to fall virum to an ignis fatuus which since that tim ... has blinded many millions. [j66, 1] Balldclai~ idealizes the experience of the commodity, in that he ascribes to it, as
canon, the aperience of allegory.
[j66.2j
If it is imagination that presents corresponclc:nces to the memory. it is thinking that consecrates allegory to it. Memory brings about the convergence of imagination and thinking. [j66,3]
It is a very specific experience dIat the proletariat has in the big city-onc in many respects sintilar to that which the inunigrant has there. [j66a.5]
To me fiftneur, his city is-eVf.":n if, like Baudclaire, he happened to be born there-no longer native ground. It represents ror hin} a theatrical display, an arena. [J66a,6] Baude~ never wrote a whore-poem from the point of view of the whore. {But compare: Brecht, UJ,bllch/U, Stiidlebewohne" no. 5.)as:! (j66a.71
Preface
With the new manufacturing processes that lead to imitations, semblance is consolidated in the commodity. [j66,4]
'0 DIII'0nt 's poems ill 1851 ; eua)' on Dupont ill 1861.
[J66,,8]
<Stefarn George translated "Spleen et IdeaI" by "Triibsinn und Vergristigung" <Melancholy and SpiritualizatiOID, thus hitting upon the ...ssentia1 meaning of the ideal in Baudelaire. [j66,6]
In theerotology of the danmed-as that of Baudelaire might be called-infertility and impotence an: the decisive factors. They aJorl( are what give to the cruel and ill-famed moments of desire in sexual life a purely negative character-something that is lost, it goes widlom saying, in the aa of procreation, as in relations designed to last an entire lifetime (that is, in marriage). These realities instituted for the long terol-children, marriage-would lack all assurance of longevity, had not the mOSt destructive energies of the hwnan being entered into their creation, contributing to their stability not less but more than many another energy. But these relations are legitimated, through this contribution, only to the extent that this is really possible for decisive libidinal movements in PIT-Kllt-day society. [J6',,9]
With Meryon, the majesty and decrepitude of Paris come into their owo.
The social value of marriage rests decidedly on its longevity, insofar as this latter
Between the theory of natural correspondences and the repudiation of nature exists a contradiction. It is resolved insofar as within the memory impressions become detached from individual experiences, so that the long experience stored up in those impressions is released and can be fed into the allegoricalfu7'ldw. <See
j62',2..
[j66,5]
[j66,7]
In the fonn taken by prostitution in lhe big cities, the woman appars not only as commodity but, in a precise sense, as mass-produced article. TIlls is indicated by the masking of individual expression in favor of a professional appearance, such as makeup provides. The point is made srill more emphatically, later on, by the unifonned girls of the music·hall review. [j66,8) Baudelaire's opposition to progress was the indispensable condition for his success at capturing Paris in his poetry. Compared with this poetry, all later big-city Iyrie must be accounted feeble. What it lacks is pn=:cisdy that reserve toward its subjea matter which Baudclain=: owed to his frenetic hatred of progress. [J66a,l ]
In Baudelaire, Paris as an emblem of antiquity contrasts with its masses as an emblem of modernity. [J66a.2] On Lt: Sp/(nl til.' Paris: news items arc the leaven that aUows the urban masses to rise in Baudelaire's inlagination. [J66a,3] Splecn is the reeling that corresponds to catastrophe in pennanencc.
{j66a,4]
holds within it the idea of an ultimate and definitive-if continually deferred"confrontation" of the spouses. From this confrontation the couple are preserved so long as the marriage itself lasts-which is to say, in principle, for the rest of their lives. [J67,1] Relation between commodity and allegory: "value," as the natural buming-glass of semblance in history, outshines "meaning." Its luster <&hdm is more difficult to dispel. It is, moreover, the very newest. In the Baroque agc=, the fetish character of the commodity was still relatively wldevcloped. And the commodity had not yet so deeply engraved its stigma-the proletarianization of the producers-on the process of production. Allegorical perception could thus constitute a style in the seventeenth century, in a way that it no longc=r could in the nineteenth. Baudelair... as allegorist was entirely isolated, He sought to recall the experience of the commodity to an alIeg01ica1 experience. In this, he was doomf.":d to founder, and it becam ... clear thaI the relemlessness of his initiative was exceeded by the relent· lessness of reality. H ence a strain in his work that feels pathological or sadistic only ~cause it missed out on reality-though jusl by a hair. [J67.2}
It is one and the Same histOlicaJ night at the onset of wltich th... owl of Minerva (with Hegel) begins its Bight and Eros (with Bauddaire) lingers before the empty pallet, torch extinguished, dreaming of bygone embraces. 1J67.3]
The experience of allegory, which holds fast to of etemal lransiencc.
rums, is properly me experience (J67,4)
Prostitution can lay claim (Q being considered "-work ,. the moment work becomes prostimtion. In fact. the lorttte»' was the first to carry out a radical renunciation of the cosmme of lover. She already arranges to be paid for her time: from there. it is only a short distance to those who demand ~w.l.ges." (J67,5J Already at work inJugendstil is the bourgeois tendency to set nature and technology in murual opposition, as absolute antitheses. Thus. Futurism will later give to technology a destructive antinatural accent; in Jugendstil, the energies destined to operate in this direction art beginning to unfold . The idea of a world bewitched and. as it were, denatured by technological development infonns a good many of its creations. (J67,6] The prostinlle does nOt sell her labor power; her job, however, entails the fiction that she sells her powers of pleasure. Insofar as this represents the utmost extension attainable by the sphere of the conunodity, the prostitute may be considered, from early on, a precursor of conuuodity capitalism. BUl precisely because the conunodity character was in other respects undeveloped, this aspect did not need to stand out so glaringly as would subsequently be the case. As a matter of fact, prostitution in the Middle Ages does not, for example, display the crudeness that in the nineteenth cennuy would become the rule. (J67a, 1] The tension between emblem and commercial logo makes it possible to measure the changes that n..we taken place in the world of things since the seventeenth cenrury. (J67a,2] Strong fixations of the sense of smell, such as Baudelaire seems to have known. could makc= fctishism likely. [j67a,3] The new fcrmcnt that enters into the ltudium villU and rums it to spleen is [J67a,4j self-cstrangcment. H ollowing out of the irmer life. Of the infinite regress of re6e~tion that,. in ~ manticism, in a spirit of play, both expanded tllC space of life In evcr-wldelU~lg circles and reduced it wiUUII ever nalTower fram es, there remained to Baudclatre only lhc "sombcr and lucid exchange" with himself. as he represcnts it ~ the image of a convcrsation between U1C jack ofhcarts and the qucen of spades 11l an old pack of cards. Latcr. Julcs Renard will say: "His hcart .. _ more: alone Ulan an ace of hearts in the middlc of a deck of cards:'J" [J67a,5] TIlcre may \\--ell be Ule closest connection between the alJe~ori.cal ~g.ination and the imagination put in thrall to lhi.nk.ing during haslush Il1t000Cauon. At
work in the latter are different sorts or powers : a genius of melancholy gravity, another of Ariel-like spiriruality. [J67a,6] In view of its position immediate.ly after "La Destruction,"
In "La Mort des amants," correspolldc=nccs weave away without any hint of allegorical intention. Sob and smile-as cloud formations of the human face-ming1e in the tereets. Villiers de I'lsle-Adam saw in this poem, according to a letter he wrote to Baudelaire, the application of the latter's "musical theories."
(J67a,8)
"La Destruction" on the demon: "he 6lJ.s my burning lungs I with sinful cravings never satisfied .~ The lung as ule seat of desire is mc= boldest intimation of desire's unrealizability that can be imagined. Compare the invisible stream in ,;Btnediction." [J68,l ) Of all the Baudelairean poems, "La Destruction" comprises the most reJentless elaboration of the allegorical intention. The "bloody retinue," which the poet is forced by the demon to contemplate, is the court of allegory-the scattered apparatus by dint of which aUegory has so disfigured and so unsettled the world of things that only the fragments of that world are left to it now, as object of its brooding. The poem breaks off abruptly ; it itself gives the impression-doubly surprising in a sonnct-of something fragmentary. (j68,2! Compare " Le Vi" t.l t:! l:hif(onnieJ" - ~ilh "Dan K ce Cahriolet ," by Sainte-Beuve (d.es Crmaoifltioru" vol. 2 [Puris, 1863]. p. 193): Su led in Ihill u briolel , I examin e the man Who driVel! me, Ihe mll n who ', little mOn! IbaD machi ne. Ilideou. wit.h hi. Ihi ck hu l'
The l)(lel goes 0 11 to ask himself wh!!tller hi ~ own soul iM nol just as unkempt HI the ~oul (If Ille c·oll r hm a n . Baurlc·laire ment.i.,n! Ihi8 poem in his letter fir January 15 , 1866. to Sainte-Ucuve ..u: 1J68.3]
The ragpicker is the most provocative figure of human misery. "Ragtag"
hasc.hisch," Oemm:J, vol. I , pp. 249-250). As may be gathered from this prose description of 185 1, Baudelaire recob'llizes himself in the figure of the ragman. The poem presents a further affinity with the poet, immediately noted as such: "a ragpicker stumbles past, wagging his head I and bumping inlO walls with a poet's grace, I pouring o ut his heartfelt schemes to one I and all, including spies of the police:' .oM (J68,4] Much can be said on behalf of the supposition that "u Yin des chifTonniers" was written around the time of Baudelaire's espousal of "beautiful utility." (The question calUlOt be settled with any certainty, because the poem first appeared in the book. edition of us FleuTs du maJ.-"u VIn de l'assassin" was published for the first time in IM8-in L'Etho des marchands de vinJ!) The ragpicker poem strenuously disavows the reactionary pronouncements of its author: The criticism on Baudelaire has overlooked this poem. [J68a,l] "Bdieve nil:, the wine of the barriere, hall effectively pre~erved tbe 8hocks to which govcrnmcnlal slruclurclI have been suhject. " Edouard Foucaud, Porn inveli lcur; Php iologie de L'ifidlUlrieJram;;o i3e (Paris, 1844). p. 10. [J68a,2] AproJlos of "Le Ym dell chilTonllicrs'"': "There's braMij in nul' puckets, I Pierre, lei 's go Ull n hinge: I 011 Mondays, you know. I I love to knock about. I I know ofa wwc (or two SOliS I That 's IIlIt half hall , I Anti eo, leI's go haVf~ some fun , I Let', walk up It) Ihe burriere, ... 1:1 . Gourdon de Genouillac, Les ReJrain.!l de ifI rue, de 1830 a 1870 (Paril, 1879), p. 56. (J68a,3]
Baudelaire. builds stanzas where it would seem almost impossible to construct them. Thus . in the sixth stanza of "Lesbos :" "ambitious heans I that yearn, far from us. for a radiam smile I they dimly glimpse o n the rim of other sk.iesl"ati1 [j68a,8]
On the desecration of the douds : " Wandering a wasteland at high noon I . .. I saw a dismal stOnndoud bearing down I upon my bead, bristling with vicious irnPS "~-this is a conception that could stem directly from a print by Meryon.
11 69.11 It is rare in French poctr)' that the big city is evoked through nothing but the immediate presentation of its inhabitants. 1b.is occurs with unsurpassable po\'.tt in Shelley's poem on London
us
Traviel oflen drew lhe tYlN! of the ragpicker.
!J68·,'1
The SO il of the proletarian figures in "L'Ame du vin" with d ie words, " this frail athlete of life"»L-an infinitely sad correspondence of modernity and antiquity.
!J68. ,51 With regard to the "sectioning of time": the hidden construction of "Le VUl des anlallts" is grounded in the fact that only rather far along does the now surprising light fall on the situation al hand: the ecstatic drunkelUlcss which the lovers owe to lhc wine is a moming drunkefmess. "into the blue crystal of the mom' ing""JdI_ this is the sevcntlliine of this fourteen-line poem. [J68a,6] In the situation of tlle lovers "cradled gentIy on the wing I of the cormiving whirlwind," JIll it is not far·fetched to hear a reminiscence of Fourier. "-nle whirlwinds of planetary spheres," we read in Silberling's Dictionnairr tir Jotiologie pha,ImlJli rilmnr (Paris, 1911 ), p. 433, "so measured in tIlcir motion that at anyone mo ment they pass over billions of places-arc, in our eyes. the seal of divine justice 0 11 I..he Bucnmtions of matter" (FoUlier, 'fMode t'n concrtl 011 positilX, p.3201· Ll68.,7]
In the opening poem of FleurJ du mal, Baudelairc= accosts the public in a most unusual fashion. H e cozies up to them, if not exactIy in a cozy vtin. You could say he gathers his readers about him like a camarilla. (J69,4) The awareness of time's empty passage and the taedium uiliu are the [W() weights that keep the wheels of melancholy going. In this regard, the last poem of the "Spleen et ideal'" sequence corresponds exactly to the sequence "La Mort."
1169,51 The poem "VHoriogc"
1169.7] On the "sectioning of rime," and on "VHorlogc" in particular, Poe's "CoU<XJuy of Monos and Una": "TI1Cfe seemed to have sprung up in tIle brain that of whicll
words could convey lO the merely human intelligence even an indistinct concepcion. Let me teml it a mental pendulous pulsation. It was the moral emboduncnl of man's abstract idea of Time . ... By its aid I measured the irregularities of the clock upon the mantel, and of the watches of the attendants. 1bcir tickings came sonorously to my ears. The slightest deviation from the true proportion ... affected me just as violations of abstract truth are WOHl, on earth, to affect the moral sense" (Edgar Allan Poe, NOllvelles Hiltoim atraordinaim <Paris, 1886~, pp. 336-337).- This description is nothing but one great euphemism for {j69a,1] the utter void ohime to which man is surrendered in spleen.
110
"... until night I voluptuously reaches for I the horizon, consoling all- I even bungu, concealing all- I even shame" ("La Fm de la journee")""- this is the swnmer lightning of social conflicts in the nighl sky of the metropolis. {j69a.2] " Yuu Set' I" . for sellinr; lJfr my darknes5. more ! mockingl y 10 magnify the "pace I whieh bars me from those blue immensities" ("'J e t ' adore a l'egal ... "). J uxtapOlle: " And the. !lUIII/HI faell-which Ovid thought was made 10 mirror the IIItanlee it now, no 10n!;!!T expreuing anything but a crazy ferocity. or rigid in a kind of dcath!" (Oe Ullre,. vol. 2_ II. 628 [" Fusees," no. 3]).39\ [J69a,3 j
In studying the allegorical in the work of Baude1ain:, it would be a mistake: to undervalue the medieval element in relation to the Baroque. It is something difficult to describe, but may be grasped most readily if we recall how very much certain passages. certain poems ("'Vers pour Ie portrait de M. H onore D aumier," "L'Avertisseur," "Le Squelette Laboureur"), in their pregnant simplicity, contrast with others that are overburdened with meanings. This bareness give.! them the sort of expression one: finds in portraits by Fouquet. U 69a,41 A Blanquisllook at the terrestrial globe: 1<] contemplate from on high the globe in its rondure, I and I 110 longer seek there the shelter of a hut" ("Le GoOt du neant").361 The poet has made his dwe lling in space itself, one could say-or in the abyss. [J69a,51 Representations pass before the melancholic slowly, as in a procession. ~ image, typical Ul this complex. of symptoms, is rare in Baudelaire. It occurs m "Horreur sympathique": "your vast mourning clouds ! are the hearses o r my dreams.",mI [J70,1] "TIlen all at once the raging bells break loose, I hurling 10 heaven their aw~ calcrwaul" (" Spleen lV'V71The sky thai is assailed by the bells is the same III which Blanqui's speculations move. [J70,2j "Behind the scenes, the frivo lous decors I or all existence. deep in the abyss, I I sec distillctl), oLher, blighter ......o rlds" ("La VOix") . These aJ'C the worlds of
L'Etmritl par lu (JJtreJ. Compare "Le GoufIre" (The Abyss>: "my windows open 0 11
Infinity.nm
[J70.3]
If we bring together "L'Irrtmediable" with tm: poml Mouquet attributed to Baudelaire, "Un J our de pluie" , then il becomes quite dear that what inspires Baudelaire i.s the state of surrender 10 the abyss. and we see also just where this abyss actually opens. The Seine localizes "VnJour de pluie" in Paris. Of this locale W~ read: "In a fog heavy with poisonous vapors, I men are buried like sneaking reptiles; I though proud of their Strength, th~y snunble blindly aJong I more painfully with each step" (vol. 1, p. 212). In "L'lrrbnediable," this image of the Parisian streets has become o ne of the allegorical visions of the abyss which the conclusion of the poem describes as "apt emblems": "A soul in torment descending I . .. intO an echoing cavern I ... or vigilant slimy monsters! whose luminous eyes enforce I the gloom" (vol. 1, pp. 92-93).:m [J70.4] Apropos of tilt: u talogue of CllIblemll presented by Ihe poem " L' lrremediabie," C..fpet eites a passage. (rom de Maiure's Soirees de Suint-PetersbQurg: "That river which one e rosse~ but once ; thul pitcher of the Danaides, ofwoy~ full and alw0Y' en.pty; that liver of 1'ityw, alway, regener ated under the Leak of the vuhu rt: that lII,wyt tlevours it allt'W, . • •- Ihelle are so many speaking hieroglyphs, about which il i~ impolI~ ible to be m.i~ tuken . '·m [J70,Sl
The gesrure of benediction, with outstretched arms, in Fidus (also in Zarathw· Ira 1)-the gesture of someone carrying something. [J70,6] From the draft or Bn epilogue 10 the lieeond edition of Let Fleurs du mal: " your nlagic cobbles piled for barriulles, f your chea p orator!' baroque rhetoric. ! rantin g of 10" e while your scwers run wilh blood . I swirling to heD like mighty fh·ers"'(voJ. 1, p . 229V~s [J70a.l]
"Benediction" presents the poet's path in life as Passion : "he sings the very Stations of his cross." In places, the poem distantly recalls the fantasy in which Apollioaire, in Le Poet~ QJJQ.J£i"t (ell. 16), has imagined the extennination of poets 11)' unbridled philistines : ~ and blinding flashes of his intellect I keep him from noticing the aJIgry lllob."A [J70a,2] A Blanqui!it look at htIDlall.ity (and, at the same time, one of the few verses by Baudelaire that unveils a cosmic aspect): ~the Sky! black lid of thai enormous pot I in which ilUlUmerable generations boil" ("Le Couvercle").11:71 (j 70a,3) It is, above all, the "recollections" to which the "familiar eye"lIII appertains. (Il:Us gaze. w hicll is no n~ o ther than the gaze o r certain portraits. brings fbc to mind.) (j70a .4]
"On solemn eves of Heavenly halVe5ting" ("I:Imprevu")l>L-an aunmmal Ascension. [J70a.S1
If "Le CrepuscuJe du matin" opens with the sound of reveille in the barrack. squares, one must remember that under Napoleon HI. for reasons easy to understand, the interior of the city was fillcd with barracks. (J71 ,4]
"CybCle, qui les aime. augl1lente ses verdures"'38L-in Brecht's beautiful translation: "Cybcle. die sie liebt, legt mehr Griin vorl' ("Cybele. who loves them, shows mort: grttn "). A mutation of the organic is implicit here. [J70a.6)
Smile and sob, as cloud fonnation of the human face, are an unsurpassable manifestation of its spirituality. (J7I ,S]
"Le Gouffl'~" is the Baudelaircan equivalent of Blanqui's "vision."
[j70a,71
"0 wonns. black cronies without eyes or ears"l&L-here is something like sympa. thy for parasites.
(J70a.8J
Com"arison or eyes lu illuminated llliovwilldowl!! "Your eyeR, Lit up like shope to lure their tradc I ur fircworkB in the park on holidays. I insolently make use o( borrowed power" (" Tu mettrui8 1' univers").:W (J70a,9]
Concerning "La Servaute au grand coeur": the words, "of whom you wc.rt= so j ta/mll,":I.t.l in the 6rst line, do not bear precisely tne accent one would expect. 1be voice, as it .....'CtC, draws back from ja/au.$(. Ths ebbing of the voice is something extremely charactcrisec. (Remark of Pierre Leyris.)
In '" Revc parisien." the forces of production are seemingly brought to a standstill, put out of commission. The landscape of this dream is the dazzling mirage of the leaden and desolatc terrain that in "De Profundis clamavi" becomes the universe. "'.At. frozen sun hangs overhead six months; I the other six, thr: earth is in its shroud- I no trees, no water, not one creature here, I a wasteland naked as the polar nonh!1t3II; [J71,6J The phantasmagoria of "R!ve parisien" recalls that of the world exhibitions, where the bourgeoisie cried out to the order of property and production their "Abide, you are: so fair! "3118 [j71 ,7] PI'Ollst 011 "gl'alltjllg u kiml of glory 10 the. cruwd": "It would seem impunible to better that. ...JI!'I [j71a,1]
[j70a,IO]
The sadistic imagination tends toward mechanical constructions. It may be that, when he speaks of the "nameless elegance of the human armature," Baudelaire sees in the skeleton a kind of machinery. The point is made more clearly in !OLe Vm de l'assassin": "'That bunchl They feel about as much I as plowshares breaking ground- I plow or harrowl Which of them I has ever known True LoYe." And, unequivocally: "Blind and deaf machine, fertile in cruelties" ("Tu mettrais I'uuivers").[j71 ,1} "Old·fashioned" and "immemorial" are still united in Baudelaire. The (things> that have gone out of fashion have become inexhaustible containers of mCllOries. It is t.hus the old women appear in Baudelaire's poetry ("w Petites Vieilles"); thus the departed years ("Recueillement"); it is thus the poet compares himsdf to a "stale boudoir where old·fashioned clothes I lie scattered among wilted fem and rose" ("Spleen 11").316 [J71.2] Sadism and fetishism intertwine in those imaginations umt seek LO :UUlCX all organic life to the sphere of the inorganic. "0 living matter, henceforth you 're no more I TItan a cold stone encompassed by vaguc fear I And by the desert, and t.he mist. and sun" ("SpleenlJ").JIW The assinUiation of the living to dead matter was likewise a preoccupation of Flaubert's. The visions of his Saint Anthony are a rriumph of fetishis m. and wonhy of those celebr:l.ted by &sch on lhe Lisbon (J7 1,3) altar.
"And which, on those golden evenings wnett Joufid YDum!! nvivt'lllD- the second half of the line collapses on itself. Prosodically, it works to contradict what it affirms. 'This is, for Baudelaire, a characteristic procedure. [j7Ia,2] "Whose name is known only to the buried prompter".191...-this comes from the world of (b( (compare "Remords posthume," "Le Mort joyeux"). (J71a,3] The only place in Le F"kurs du mal where the Baudelairan view of children is contravened is the fifth stanza of the first section of "w Petites Vieilles": "the eyes of a clUld, a little girl who laughs I in sacred wonder at whatever shine.sI "3n To arrive at this outlook on childhood, the poet takes the longest way-the way leading through old age. [j71a,4]
In Baudelaire's work, poerns 99 and 100 of us F7nJrS du mal stand apan-as Strange and solitary as ule great stone gods of Easter Island. we know that they belong to the oldest parts of the text; Baudelaire himself pointed Ulem out to his ma Uler as poems referring to her, poems to which he had given no tiue because any advertisement of this secrel eOrUlection was odious to him. What tllese ~ nlS mark out is a death·tranced idyll. Both, but especially t.he first, breathe an OUr of peace such as rarely obtains in Baudelaire. BoUl present the image of the fatherless famil y: the son, howe vcr, far [rom occupying t.he place of the fatller, leaves it cmpt)'. 111(: dis tam SUIl 111at is setting in the first poem is the symbol of lllc faulcr, of him whose gaze-"huge open eye in the curious sky..-~-tingers
j
J..
without jealousy, sympathetic and remote, on the meal shared by mother and son. TIle second ~ evokes the image of the fathalcss family situated not around a table but around a grave. The sultnness of life pregnant with possibili· ties has cntirdy yielded to the cool night air of death. U 7La,S}
Earthquakes rumble in th e bell y urtbe citi~
Bencal.h tht:ir houvell. fi re in their Wilke. Georg Heym, Didlfllll6efl (Munich . 1922), 11 . 19. ~Je
The "Tableaux parisiens" begin with a transfiguration of the city. The first, second, and, if you like, third poem of the cycle work together in this. "Paysagr:" is the city's tete-a-d!te l'I'ith the sky. The only d ements of the city to appear on the poet'S horizon are the "workshop full of singing and gossip, and the chimneypots and s teeples."a~ Then "Le Sole.il" adds the suburbs; nothing of the urban masses enters intO the first thue poems of "Tableaux parisiOlS." The founh begins with an evocation of the Louvre, hut it passes immediately, in the middle of the second stanza, intO lamentation over tIle: perishability of the great city. 1172,1]
"'Drawings to which the gravity I and learning of some forgotten artist I . , . I have oonunurucalcd beauty"J9L-Ja Beauli appears hen:, thanks to the definite article, as sober and "impassive." It has become the allegory of itself. (J72,2] On "Brumes et pluies" <Mists and Rains>: the city has become strange to the Saneur, and every bed Mhazardous."* (Multitude of night lodgings for Baudelaire.) ]In,'] ~ may be surprised to 6nd the poem "Brumes et pluies" among "Tableaux
parisiens." ]t verges on imagery of the country. But aln=:ady Sainte-Beuve had written : "Oh, how sad the plain around the boulevard I" ("La Plaine, octobre," mentioned by Baudelaire (ontre Sainte·Beuvt on January 15, 1866).- The land· scape of Baudelaire's poem is, in faa , that of the city plunged in fog. It is the preferred canvas for the embroideries of boredom. [J72,4] "Le Cygne r (The Swan> has the movement of a cradle :OCkin.g ba~ and ~orth between modemity and antiquity. In his notes. Baudclatre wntes: Conce~ve a sketch for a lyrical or fairy houJfonntn"~. a pantomime.... Steep the whole Ul an
abnomlai, dreamy atmosphe re- the atmosphere of grrat Jays. Let there be something lulling about it" ("Fusees," no. 22).- TItcse great days are the days of ]J72.5] recurrence. On the "fow demons in the aunosphere":3"" they return as the "demons. of ~e cities" in Georg Heym . They are grown more violent but. because t.hey discla.un their resemblance to the "businessmen; they mean less. [J 72,6]
[J12a. l ]
a I'tgal de 13 vaUte nocrome" d
adore you no less than the vault of more clearly than in this poem is Se.xus played off against Eros. One must rum from this poem to Goethe's "Selige Sehnsucht"
Ni glj[)~l"IIL-nowhere
"Sonnet d'automne" describes, in a reserved but scrupulous way, the State of being that conditions Bauddaitt's erotic experiences : "My hean, on which everythillgjars, I . .. I is unwilling to disclose its hellish secret, I . . . I I hate all passion . . . I Let u~ love each other gently." 1l:tis is like a distant reprise of the stanZa in the West-D.rl/jell" Divan where Goethe conjures out of the houris and their poet an image of the erotic as a sort of paradisal variant of sexuality: '"1beir friendship reward his endeavor, I Compliant with sweet devotions, I Let him live with them forever : I All the good have modest notions."tItI (J72a.3] Marx on the Second Repuhlic: " Pass.ions without truth. tr uthl without pau ioD ; heroci without heroic deedl , history wi thout eventl; developme nt, whose BoLe driving force seems to be. the calendar, wearying with COllSlant rlllletitioD of the . ame tellsions and relaxation • . ... If any section of hi8 tory has been painted gray on gray, it is thil. " Karl Marx, Oer ach l%ehnte Brumaire desl.oui& Bonaparte, ed. Rjarr;anov (Vienna and Berlin d927» , pp . 45-46.1I.ll l172a.4]
The opposite poles of the Baudd.airean sensibility find their symbols equally in the skies. The leaden, cloud.l~s sky symbolizes sensuality in thrall to the fetish; cloud formations arc the symbol of sensuality spirirualized. (]72a.5] Engt!llI to Marx on D~ember 3, 1851 : " Fo r today, at any rale, the ass is as free .. . Ihe old mall 011 the evening of the Eighteenth Brumaire, so completely unrestrained thai he can'l help exposing hill a sinine self in all directio ns. Appa Uing IlerSIH!d h 'e o( no resilltance !" 1iI1 (Karl MllfX , Ocr ucht%ehntll BnunClire des Low HOllo/JUrlP-. ed. Hjuzano v (Vit'llua and Berlin1 . p. 9). [J73,.I ]
1411
Engd g I" Marx 011 J)ecemlJcr 11 , 18.51 : " ' f, this time , the proletariat failed to fight eN m(l ue. it wall IIt't!a ulle it wall fll1l y aware of it.'! OWIi . .. impotence lind was prc jlllrcli 10) auhm..il with fa talis tic resignation 10) a rellt:wed cycle of Republic, Empire. restoratioll , a lld rresh revuiulioll , until .. . it regained frcllh Itrength"l01$ (M il fX • lJer uclll;;eil,lte Bntlll(lire, p . to). 1]73,2)
Closing@I:.Iuzaof ··Oi.: Ou nu""'n ut: r St iidtc" ~ D"mi) u 5 ,If ti ll' Cilies). h y Ht'ylll : Hili the , I ~nl o n~ an ' !!ru"'in~ l'<..lossal . T ht hm'ni 011 ,I",ir I...... b (trAM hlf>(H i rrem' tilc sky.
- As ill known , May 15 [IfW8] had 110 olher rl!liuh l ave dun of removing Blanqui lind hig cumraull:lt--thal is , Ihe real leaden; of the I'roletariall parly. Ihe revo lu -
Liolliny 11OmmWlistll-frOlll t.he public stage for th... entire. dUrll.tion of the cycle." Marx. Der achtzehrue IJrllnl(Jire. ed. Rjazanov. p . 28.I0Il 1J73,3)
..
America's spirit world enters into the description of the crowd in Rx.. Marx speaks of the republic which in Europe "signi6es, in gencral, only the political fonn of revolution of bourgeois society and not its conservative form of life-as for example, in the United States of North America. where ... classes ... ha~ not yet beconte fixed, . .. when: the modem means of production ... compen_ sate for the relative deficiency of heads and hands, and where, finally, the feverish, youthfuJ movement of material production ... has left neither time nor oppornmity for abolishing the old spirit ,""urld." Marx, D~ acntunntt Brumairt, p. 30. ' 1;1;1 It is remarkable that Marx invokes me world of spirits to help explain the American republic. (J73,4)
If the crowd is a veil, then the journalist draws it about him, exploiting his numerow connections like so many ~ductive arrangements of the cloth. U"~]
The revolutiona r y hy-elcetioll8 of MlI.rch 10, 1850, sent to tbe parliament in Paria an exclusively social-democratic mandate. But these.elec::tions wo uld find ua sentimental commentary in Ihe April hy-e1ection , tbe election of Eugene Sue." Marx, Ocr ocht ~ehnre Brumoire. I" (~. {j73,6j Apropos of<:.LeCrepuscule du mutin ." Mun: sees in Napoleon III "a man wbo does no t decide by night in order to execute by day, but who decide!i by day and executes by night. " Mau , Der oeh'zehn'e Brumaire, ed. Rjazanov, p. 79. 409 lJ73a, l} Apropos of " Le Crepuscule tlu malin": "Paris u rull of rumors of a coup d 'etat. The capital is to be filled with troopa during the night ; d ie nex l morning is to hrill3 ,Iecrees.·' Quoted froll! the Eu ropean daily press of Septemher and October 1851. Marx , Oer acht::ehnte Brumaire, I)' 105:"" lJ73a.2) Marx ("aIls the leaders of the Paris pruletariat tbe "barriculle commanders." Chr oehtzehnte Brumaire. p. 113.'" 1J73a.3)
Sainte-Bcuvt's remark about Lamartine, whose poems represented the sky (JIIU Andre Chenier's landscapes (J5 1a,3). sbould be compared v.rith the words of Marx: "'While, in its accord with society, in its dependence on natural forces and its submission to the authority which protected it from above, the small holding that had newly come into being \-'t'3S narurally religious, the small holding that is ruined by debts, at odds v.rith society and authority, and driven beyond its own Mutations naturally becomes irreligious. Heaven was quite a pleasing accession to the narrow strip of land jWt won, more particularly as it makes the weather; it becomes an insult as soon as it is thrust forward as substiNte for the small holding." Marx. De.,- acnlUlmtt: Brumllirt, p. 122."1 Sainte-Bcuve's analogy, com-
bined with this passage from Marx, provides the key to the character and dura· tion of the policica1 influence which Lamartine derived from his poetry. Compare, in this cOlmection, his negotiations with the Rwsian ambassador, as reported by Pokrovski
U73.,O] Ambiguity of that concc:ption of the heroic which is hidden in ~e Ba~delairean image of the poet. liThe culminating point of the idie; naPOIiOnltTI~I IS the preponderance of the anny. The army was the po~'nl d 'Ilonntur of the small.hol~g peasants; il was they themselves tranSformed Ulto her:oes' ... But the encuuca against whom the French peasant has now 10 defend his property are ... ~e tax collectors. TIle small holding lies no longer in the so-
-nle "magic cobbles piled for barricades," in Baudelaire's drafl of an ep~oguc.'~'· define the limit which his poetry encountcrs in its immediate confrontatlon With social subjeCts. The poet says nothing of the hands which move these cobbleStones. In ;ole Vm des chif[onruers," he was able to pass beyond this limit.
UN ,4]
Cloaing wleB of "Le Vin deB chiffonnien:' in the version of 1852: " Already God hlul given them sweel Bleep; I He added winc. divinc son of the sun ." The distinc_ tiun helwecli God and lIIan ("Man added wine .. . ") dl:l.tes from 1857. [J74a, l]
In se(:Lion 17 of " Salon de 1846," Baudelaire 8 peak~ of "th e funereal and rumpled frock coat of loday" (p. 136); 8nd, before that, of this " uniform livery of mourn_ ing": " Do not these puckered creases, playing like serpents around the mortified fte,!j. h , hl:l.ve their own mysterious grace?"' (p. 134). Ch. B. , Oeuvrel , vol, 2.-UO
exploited. we would be spared the inauihenh"c talk of an exploitation of nature. talk reinforces the semblance of "value," which accrues to raw materials only by virtue of an order of production founded on the exploitation of human labor. "'-b-e 'flu exploitation to COme to a halt, work, in turn, could no longer be d laracterized as the exploitation of narure by man. 1t would henceforth be con. ducted on the model of children's play, which in Fourier fonus the basis of the ~iJDPassioned work" of the Hannonians. To have instituted playas the canon of a labor no longer rooted in exploitation is one of the great merits of Fourier. Such work inspirited by play aims not at the propagation of values but at the amelioration of nature. For it, too, the Fourierist utopia furnishes a modeJ, of a son to be fo und realized in the games of children. It is the image of an earth on which every place has become an inn. The double meaning of the word (WirtJduJ.jl> blossoms here: all places are worked by human hands, made useful and beautifu1 thereby; all, however, stand, like a roadside inn, open to all. An earth that was cultivated according to such an image would cease to be part of "a world where action is never the sister of dreanl ."~Zl On that earth, the act would be kin to the dream.
1114••3J
1175.2J
In the last section of "Salon de 1846" (section 18, "De I'H ero'isme de la vie modeme"), suicide appears, characteristically, as a "particular passion"-the only one, among those mentioned, of any real significance. It represents the great conquest of modernity in the realm of passion: "Except for Hercules on Mount Oeta, Cato of Utica, and Cleopatra, . .. what suicides do you see in the paintings of the old masters?" Ch. 8., Oeuvres, vol. 2, pp. 133-134. m Suicide appears, then, as the quintessence of modernity. [J74a,2]
Nietuche on the winter of 1882- 1883, on the Bay of RapaUo: " Mornings, I ....ould walk in a southerly direction on the splendid road to Zoagli, going up put pines with a magnificent view of the 8ea; in the afternoon •... I walked around the wbol~ bay ... all the way to Portofino. This place aDillhis scenery came even cl08er to my heart bocause oftbe great love that Emperor Frederick HI felt for them .... It was on theile two walks that the whole of ZaralhlUtru I occurred to me, and especially Zarathustra him~lf as a type. Hathtr. he overtook me." Friedrich Nietzsche, Alia Sprach Zarathwtra. etl. Kroner (Leipzig), pp. xx-xxi. Compare [J14a,4] this with a description of the Fort du Taureau;Ul
Against the background of his "philosophy of the noontide:"-the doctrine of eternal recurrence-Nietzsche defines the earlier stages of his thinking as philoso- . phy of the dawn and philosophy of the morning. He, too, knows the ".5(:ctioning of time" and its great divisions. It is certainly legitimate to ask whether this apperception of time was not an element ofJugendstil. If in fact it was, then we would perhaps better understand how, in Ibsen, Jugendstil produced one of the greatest technicians of the drama. []14a,5) The closer work comes to prostirucion, the more tempting it is to conceive of prostirution as work-something that has been customary in the argot of whores for a long rime now. This rapprochement has advanced by giant steps in the wake of unemployment; the "Keep sD1iling"'~ maintains, on the job market. the pr.tctice of the prostirute who, on the love market, flashes a smile at the customer.
1175.IJ TIle description of the labor process in its relation to nature will necessarily bear the imprint of its social stnlcture as well. IT the human being were not autflentilfJlJy
nus
Fashion determines, in each case, the acceptable limit of empathy.
1175.3J
The unfolding of work in pllly presupposes highly developed fo rces of production, such as only today stand at the disposal ofhwnanity, and stand mobilized in a direction contrary to their possibilities-that is, they are poised for an emergency. Nevertheless, even in times of relatively undeveloped productivity, the murderous idea of the exploitation of nature, which has ruled over things since the nineteenth century, was in no sense detenninative. Certainly this idea could have no place so long as the prevailing image of nature was that of the Jll.inista· ing mother, as reflected in Bachofen's conception of matriarchal societies. In the figure of the mother, this image has survived the inconstancies of history, though it obviously has grown more blurred during those periods in which mothers themselves become agents of the class that risks the life of their sons for its commercial interests. There is much to suggest that the second marriage of Baudelaire's mother was not made any more bearable for him by the fact that she elected to marry a general. This marriage evidently has a share in the evolution of the poet's libido; if the whore became tbe mastering image of the latter, this mirriage plays its part. Of course, the whore is. fundamentally, the incarnation of a narurc suffused with commodity appearance. She has even intensified its power of delusion insofar as, in cooullerce with her, an always fictive pleasure arises, one that is supposed to corresond to the pleasure of her partner. In other words, the capacity for pleasure itself now figures as a value in this conunen:e-as the object of an exploitation pcrpcttated no less by her tllan by her panncr. On the ~ther hand, one sces here the distoned, more than life·size image of an availabil· Ity that holds for everyone and is discouraged by none. 11le unworldly ecstatic lasciviousness of the Baroque poet Lohcnstein has stamped this image in a manncr that is highly reminiscent of Baudelaire: "A beautiful woman, yes, arrayed in
a thousand splendors, l Is a sumptuous table where the many sup and take their fill, I An inexhaustible weUspring of never failing waters, I Yes, of love's sweet milk; and from a hWldred conduits 1111e luscious nectar ruru" (Daniel Caspers von Lohenstein, AgrippitlQ [U:ipzig, 1724}, p. 33). The "beyond" of the choice governing relations bern'een mother and child, and the here and now of the choice governing ~Iations ~t\',"Cen prostitute and client, make contact at a single point. 'Th.is point defines the situation of Bauddain='s libido. (Compare X2,1: Marx on prostitution.) (J75aj The lines from "Selige Sehnsucht" -"No distance can weigh you down, I You come Hying, fascinated"uL-describe the experience of the aura. The distance that is there in the eyes of the beloved and that draws the lover after it is the dream of a better natutc. The decline of the aura and the waning of the rln=am of a better natutt-this latter conditioned 00 its defensive position in the class struggle-are onc and the same. It follows that the decline of the aura and the decline of sexual potency are also, at boltom, ooe. U 76,lj 1ne fornlula of L'Ett7Tliti par lu astru-"The new is always old, and the old always new"n~cOITCSponds most rigorously to the e.'(perience of spleen ~gis. tered by Baudelaire. (J76,2] A passage from L'Elmtili par 1e.J aJlres-"The number of our doubles is infinite in time and space, ... These doubles exist in flesh and bone-indeed, in trousen and jacket. in crinoline and dugnoo"'-may be compared with "Les Sept Viei1· lards" : Doubtless to you my dread scans ludicrow, unless a brotherly shudder leu you stt: for all dleU inunineot deCKpitude. these sevetl monsters had dcrnaJ life! I doubt if I could havc SUT\ti\"ed an eighth such apparition. fatha and son ofhimsclf, inexorable Phoenix, loathsomc avatar! _ I turned my back on thc whole damned parade. The "monstrous shoreless sca."I2t. which the poem evokes in the closing line; is the ag;tated univcrse of L'Et(!rnili par Ie; a;tm. [J76.3) "The houses seemed to be stretched upward by the mist I and looked like the tWO quays of some swollen river." 117 An image reminiscent of Meryon. lnc~ is something sinlllar in Brecht. 1J 76 ,4j With gloomy irony. B1anqui demonstrates what a "better humanity" would be 'worth in a lJ..:lm~ which can nevcr be better. [J16,5]
Lamartine's industrial Christ reappeani at the end of the century. Thus Vcr· haeren, in "Le Depart": Alld what would evili matter. and demented boun, And vats of vice in which the city ferments, U' one day, from dll: depths of fogs and shadows, A new Christ rues, sculpted in light.
Who lifu humanity toward him And baptizes it in the fire of newborn StaTS .m Baudelaire was not possessed of any such optimism-and that was the great chance for his presentation of Paris. C ited inJuics Desai:e, "Ocr Zug nach der Stadt," Dit! nro(! Zeil, 21 , no. 2 (Stuttgart, 1903) (p. 57h. [J76,6) 10 the historical action which the proletariat brings against the bourgeois class, Baudelaire is a witness; but Blanqui is an expert witness. [J76a,1]
If Baudelain= is summoned before the tribunal of history, h e will have to put up with a great many interruptions; an interest that is in many respects fordgn to him, and in many respects incomprehensible to him, conditions the line of ques· tioning. Blanqui, on the other hand, has long since made the question on which he speaks entirely his own; hence. he appears as an expert where this question is tried. It is therefore not exactly in the same capacity that Baudelain= and Blanqui ;m: cited to appear before the tribunal of history. (Compare Nll,3.) [J76a,2 j Abandonment of the epic moment: a tribuna.l is no sewing circle. Or better: the proceedings are instituted, not reported. [J76a,3} The interest which the mate.rialist historian takes in the past is always, in part, a vital interest in its being past- in its having ceased to uLst, its being essentially dead. To have certified this condition with respea to the whole is the indispema· ble prerequisite for any citation (any calling to life) of particular paru of this phenomenon of what·bas·been. In a word: for the specific historical interest whose legitimacy it is up to the materialist historian to establish, it must be shown that one is dealing with an object which in its entirety, actually and irrevocably, ~bclongs to history.'" 1176a,4) ~nle comparison with Dante can serve both as an example of the perplexity of
lhe early reception of Baudelaire and as a.n illusrraoon of Joseph de Maistre's remark that the earliest judgments conccrning an author arc bequeathed to the Subsequent criticism. <SceJ64a,4., [J76a.5)
In addition to the Dante comparison, the concepl of ditaMnU figures as a key· word in the reception. It is there in Barbey d'Aurevilly. Ponmwtin, Brunctiere, Bourget. [J76a,6j
For the: mate:rialist dialectician, discontinuity is the: regulative: idea of the: tradition of the ruling classes (and therefore, primarily, of the: bourgeoisie); continuity, the: regulative idea of the: tradition of the: oppressed (and therefore, primarily, of the proletariat). The: proletariat Iivea more slowly than the: bourgeois class. The aamples of its champions, the: pen:eptions of its leaders, do not grow old, or, at any rate, the:y grow old much more slowly than the: e:pochs and great personages of the bourgeois class. The waves of fashion bruk against the compact mass of !.he: downtrodden. The movements of the ruling class, by contrast, having once come: into their ascendancy, maintain in themselves a reference to fashion. In particular, the ideologies of the: rulers ~ by their natu.re more changeable than the ideas of the oppressed. For nOl only must they, like the ideas of the latter, adapt each time to the situation of social conflict, but they must glorify that situation as fundamentally harmonious. Such a business is managed only ecttntricaUyand desultorily; it is modish in the fullest sense of the word. To undertake to "salvage" the great figures of the: bourgeoisie means, not least, to conceive them in this most unstable dimension of their operation, and precise1y from out of that to extract, to cite, what has rmtained inconspicuously buried beneathbeing, as it was, of so little help to the pQ\verful. To bring together Baudelaire and Blanqui means removing the bushel that is covering the light. m [J77,1] Baudelaire's reception by poets can be easily distinguished from his reception by theorists. The latter adhere to the comparison with Dante and the concept of decadence; the former, to the maxim of art for an's sake and the theory of correspondences. (J77,2] .'nguel (whefe?) sees the st:cret or Blluddaire', influence in the extremely wide81Jread chronic nervousllt:18.
(J77,3]
TIle "jerky gait" of the ragpicker (seej79a,5) is not necessarily due to the effect of alcohol. Every few moments, he must stOP to gather refuse. which he throws into his wicker basket. U77,'] For Blanqui, history is the straw with which infinite time is stuffed.
U77a. 11
The figure of the poet in "Benediction" is a 6gure from Jugendscil. The poet appears, so to speak. in the nude. He displays the physiognomy of Joseph Delorme. [j77a,4] The "'natura1 bellevolencc~ which Magnin (J50a,4) cd.ebrales in Sainle-Beuvehis coziness. in shorl-is the complement of the hieratic bearing of Joseph Delorme. U77a,S] II can be seen from the portraits that Baudelaire's physiognomy very early showed the marks of old age. Among other things, this accounts for the oft-noted resemblance bet\o\'ecn his features and those of prelates. U77a,6]
Valles was perhaps the lint to complain insistently (as Souday would do later) about Bauddaires "backwardness" (J21,6) . (j77a,7) Allegory recognizes many enigmas, but it knows no mystery. An enigma is a fragment that, together with another, matching fragment, makes up a whole. Mystery, on the omu hand, was invoked from time immemorial in me image of the veil, which is an old accomplice of distance. Distance appears veiled. Now, the painting of Lhe Baroque-unlike that of me Renaissance. for example-has nothing at all to do with this veil. Indeed, it ostentatiously rends the veil and, all its ceiling frescoes in particular demonstrate, brings even the distance: of the: skies intO a nearness, one that seeks to startle and confound. 11tis suggests that the degree of auratic saruration of human perception has fluctuated widdy in the course of history. (In the Baroque, one might say, the con.fl.jct between cult value and exhibition value was variously played out within the eonfines of sacred art itself.) While these fluctuations await funher clarification, the supposition arises that epochs which tend toward allegorical expression will have experienced a crisis of the aura. U77a,S] Baudelaire mentions, anlong the "lyric subjects proposed by the Acad6nie," "Algeria, or the conquering civilization." Ch. B., OeuIJW, vol. 2, p. 593 ("L'Esprit de M. Vtllemain j. Desecration of distance.
U78,1]
0" Ihe -' llbyslj": " dl!l'thli of li pact!, allegofical ur th t! tlepth5 of timt'." eh. B., Ue/lVre. , vol. I , p. 306 (Le. Parodi! arti}icit?ls, " L -HtJmme-dieu ") :1.1' [J78.2]
~ 8tOP, ror I ~m 8utldenly ex.bauste4J. ~P ahead , it ~ppellr8. the pat~ d escends without warning. precipi tuusly: 011 aU !lUleR. abY8ll-1 dare lIut look . Nit:tzsche, <Werke: Grou- und KleillokravtHugflbe ,) vol. 12, p. 223 (cited in Karl Lowith , Nietuches Philosophie J er ewigen Wictlerkllnft des CleicllfUi [Berlin. ]935]. p. 33). [j77a,2]
Allegorical dismembennenl. The music to which one listens under the influence of hashish appears, in Baudelaire, as "the entire poem entering your brain, like a [J78,3) dictionary that has come alive:' Ch. B., OrulJru, vol. 1. p. 307. m
lne hero who asserts himsclf on the stage of modernity is, in fact, an actor lint of all. He clearly appears as such in "Le.s Sept Vieillards," in a "scene to match the actor's plight," "steding" his "nerves to playa hero's part."1» [j77a,3]
During the Baroque, a fomleriy incidental component of allegory, the cmblem, undergoes extravagant development. If, for the materialist historian, the medicvaJ origin of allegory still needs elucidation. Marx himself furnishes a clue for
'" I cume
ttl
understanding its Baroque fonn. H~ writes in DaJ lVJpitaJ (Hamburg, 1922), vol. I , p. 344: "Th~ collectiv~ machine .. . becomes more and more perfect, th~ more th ~ process as a whol~ bcconlCS a continuous one-that is, the less th~ raw material ~ int~rTUpt~d in its passage from its first phase to its last ; in oth~r words, the more Its passage from on~ phase to anoth~r is ~ffe:cte:d not omy by the: hand of man but by the machinery itself. In manufaaure, the isolation of each detail process is a condition imposed by th~ nature of division of labor, but in th~ fully developed factory the continuity of those processes is, on the contrary, impera. tivc." us Hue may b~ found th~ key to the Baroque procedure whereby meanings arc: conferred o n the set of fragments, on the pieces into which nOt so much the whole as the process of its production has disintegrated. Baroqu~ emblems may be conceived :u half·finished products which, from the phases of a production process, have been convened intO monuments to th~ process of destruction. During th~ Thirty Yr:ars' War, which, now at on~ point and now at anotho: immo bilized production, the "interruption" that, according to Marx, chara~ t~rizes ~ach particular stage of this labor process could be protracted almost indefinitely. But the real triumph of the Baroque emblematic, the chief exhibit of which becomes the death's head, is th~ integration of man himself into the operation. The death'! head of Baroque alle:gory is a half·finished product of the history of salvation, that process int~rrupt~d-so far as this is given him to realize- by Satan. [J78,4) The financial ruin of Baudelaire is the consequence of a quixotic struggle agahut th~ circumstances that, in his day, determined consumption. The individual con· sumer, who vis·a·vis th~ artisan commissions work, 6gures in the mark~tplace as customer. Thue he does his part in the clearance of a stock of commoditie.! which his particular wishes have had no influence whatsoever in producing. Baudelaire wanted to have such particular wishes refl.eaed not only in his choice of dothing-th~ tailor's was, of all the branches of business, ~ one that had to reckon longest with the consumer who commissions work-but also in his furniture and in other objects of his daily use. H e thus became dependent on an antiquary who was less than ho nest, and who procured for him paintings and antiqu~ furniture that in som~ cases proved to b~ fakes. The: debts which he: incurred thro ugh these dealings weighed on him for the rest ofrus life. (j78a,l J In th~ final analysis, the image of petrified unrest call~d up by allegory is a historical image. It shows th~ forces of antiquity and of Christianity suddenly arrested in their COntest, turned to stone amid unallayed hostilities. In his poem on the sick m use, with its m asterfu] verse that betrays nothing of the chimerical nature of the pods wish, Baudelaire has devised, as idea1 imag~ of the m use's hea1th. whal is really a fommla for h~r distress: "Pd wish .. . 1 Yow- C hristian blood to Bow in waves that scan I With varied sounds of ancient syJlables."U. 1118,.21
In the ~try of Baudelaire, no twithstanding the new and original signature which allegory inscribes there, a medi~val substrate makes itself felt beneath the Baroque d ement. This involves what Bel.Old calls .. th~ survival of the ancient gods in medieval humanism."us Allegory is the vehicle for this survival. 1179,I J
At the moment when the production process closes itself off to people. the stock in trade becomes accessible to them- in th~ fonn of the department store. Jj79,21 th~ theory of dandyism. 1be: tailo r's is th~ last line of business in which the rustomcr is still catered to o n an individuaJ basis. Story of the tv..-dve frock coats.n. More and more, the person commissio ning work plays a heroic role. 1179,31
On
Insofar as the 8~eur presents himself in the: marketplace, his flanerie reflects th~ flucruations of commodities. Grandville, in his drawings, has often depicted the advcnrures of the strolling commodity. (J79,4) th~ phrase "racked by their labors";oI:l1 with the Saint,Simonians, induscial labor is seen in the. light of sexuaJ intercourse; the idea of the joy of working is patterned after an unage of th~ ple:uure of procreation. Two decades later, the relation has been reversed ; the sex act itself is marked by the joylessness which oppresses the industrial worker. [J79,5)
On
It ,.\'ould be an error to think of the experience contained in the: correJpondanus as a slffip~e counterpart to certain c:xpe:riments with synesthesia (with hearing colors or Stttng sounds) that have been conducted in psychologists' laboratories. In Baudelaire's case, it is a m.a~r less of the wdl-known reactions about which effete or snobbish art criticism has mad~ such a fuss , than of rhe medium in which such reactions occur. This medium is th~ memory, and with Baude1aire it ~as possessed of unusual density. The corresponding sensory data correspond in It;. they are: teeming with memories, which run so thick that they seem to have ~en not from this life at all but from som~ mo re spacious uie antbieuTe. It is this pnor existence that is intimated by the "familiar eyes"l.1l! with which such experiences scrutinize th~ one who has them. [J19,6) What fundam~ntally distinguishes the brood~r from th~ thinker is that the formcr not only meditates a thing but also meditates his meditation of the thing. The: case of th~ brooder is that of th~ man who has arrived at the solution of a great problem but thcn has forgotte:n it. And now he: broods-no t so much over the matter itself as ov~r his past reflections on it. The brooder's thinking, there· fore, bears th~ imprint of m~mory. Brooder and allegorist are rut from the same doth. (J79a,IJ
..
" While the IJar/i(lmenUJry purly ojOnlfJr ... dt.-stroy[edJ with it, OWII handa. in til(' . 1ruggle againll1 the other ciulIe8 of 8ociety. aU the cunditioll! for illl own regime • •he Jlarl.iamcntary regime, the e%trupurliamenfory mult of fIl e oourgeoi.~ie, on the other Iland •... by its hrutal maltreatment of ill! own preu , invited Bonaparte 10 @uppreu and anuihilate ill! $peakiug and writing lJection . it.8 JMlliti. danl and iu literati , ... in order tha t it might dum he able to pllr.sue it, private affairs with fuU confidence in the protection of a 8trong alld ullrestricted govern. ment." Karl Marx. Der acht;ehnte 8rllmaire de~ Louis Bonaparte. ed . Rjazanov (Vil!Jlnll and Berlill d927~) . p . IOO . 1;t9 (]79a,2]
Baudelaire is quite as isolated in the literary world of his day as Blanqui is in the world of conspiracies. [J79a.3] With the increase in displays of merchandise and with the rise, in particular, of
magasiru rk nouveauUs, the physiognomy of the commodity emerged
mo~
and
more distinctly. Of course, even with his sensitive receptivity, Baudelaire never would have ~gistered this development had it not passed like a magnet over the "precious metal of our will,'lUOover the iron ore of his imagination. In fact, the ruling figure of that imagination-aUegory-corresponded perfectly to the com· modity fetish . [J79a,4] The bearing of the modem hero, as modeled on the ragpicker: his "jerky gait," the necessary isolatio n in which he goes about his business, the interest he takes in the refuse and detritus of the great city. (Compare Baudclaire, "De I'Heroisme de la vie moderne," in vol. 2, p. 135: "The pageant of ... life ...")"' [J79a,51 The uncovering of the mechanical aspects of the organism is a persistent tendency of the sadist. One can say that the sadist is bent on replacing the human organism with the image of machinery. Sade is the offspring of an age that was enraptured by automatons. And La Mettrie's "man machine" alluded to the . guillotine, which furnished rudimentary proof of its truths. In his bloody·minded fantaSies, J oseph de Maistre-Baude.l.airc:'s authority on matters political-is cousin to the marquis de Sade. [J80, 11 The brooder's memory ranges over the indiscriminate mass of dead lore. Human knowledge, within this memoty. is something piecemeal- in an especially pregnant llcnse: it is like the jumble of arbitrarily cut pieces from which a puule is assembled. An epoch fundamentally averse to brooding has nonetheless preserved its o utward gesture in the puule. It is the gesrure, in particular, ~r ~e allegoriSt. Through the disorderly fund which his knowledge places at his dis· posal, the allegorist rummages here and there fo r a particular piece, holds it next 10 some other piece. and tests to see if they fit tOgether- that meaning widl this image: or this inlage with that meaning. The resuh can never be known beforehand, ror th~ is no natural mediation between the two. But this is just how mau(:f'S stand with commodity and price. The "metaphysical subtleties" in which
the conlIUodity ddights, according to Marx,"2 are, above all, the subtleties of price formation . How the price of goods in each case is arrived at can never quite be foreseen, neither in the course or their production no r later when they enter the markel. It is exactly the same with the object in its allegorical existence. At no point is it written in the stars that the allegorist's profundity will lead it to one meaning rather than another. And though it o nce may have acquired such a meaning, this can always be withdrawn in favor of a different meaning. The modes of meaning fluctuate almost as rapidly as the price of commodities. In faa, the meaning of the conunodity is its price: it has. as commodity, no other meaning. Hence, the allegorist is in his clement with commercial wares. As flAneur, he has empathized with the soul of the commodity; as allegorlst, he recognizes in the "price tag," with which the merchandise comes on the market, the object of his broodings-the meaning. The world in which this newest meaning lets him sc:tt1e has grown no friendlier. An inferno ragell in the lloul of the commodity, for all the seeming tranquillity lent it by the price. [j80,2; j80a, l]
On fetishism: " It may be that, in the emblem uf the 5tone, only the mOl t obvious features urthe cold, dry earth are to be seen. But it is quite conceivable and •.. by nO mcan8 improbable that the inert ma u contains a reference to the genuinely theological conception of lhe me1ancholic which iii founli in olle of the seven deadly 8ins. This is acedia ." <Walter Benjamin.> U"'prung des de utschen Ttauer.pieu
On "the ~Ioitation of nature" 075,2): such exploitation was not always regarded as the basis of human labor. To Niewche, it quite rightly seemed worthy of remark that Descartes was the first philosophical physicist who "compared the discoveries of the scientist to a military campaign waged against nature." Cited in Karl I...Owith, .Nie/z.JCMJ Plu'losophie tkr twigrn Wieikr!utifi deJ Gleichen (Berlin, 1935), p. 121 (
1180.,31 Nietzsche call! Herac!ilul " a slar Ilevoid of atmosphere. '........ Cited in Uiwith, Niet;!lches Philo50phie, p. 110 ("01. 10, pp . ,15££. ). [j80a.4j
The great physiognomic similarity between Guys and Niewdle is worth emphasizing. Niewche ascribes to the pessimism of India "that tremendous, yearning rigidity of expression in which the Nothing is reflected" (cited in LOwith, Nil!/z.Jehl!J Phi/ruophie, p. 108 [vol. 15. p. 162J) ..j.j~ Compare this to the way Baude· I~rc describes the gaze of the o riental courtesan in Guys (J47,4); it is a gaze dU"Ccted toward the horizon, one in which rigid attentiveness and profound diso-action are united. []80a.5) On , uicille us signDture or IIJuciernity. " One cannot 8uf6cienll y condemn Christianity for hU"ing devalued tile w lml (.If lI uch II grt:at IJUrij'ying lIiltilin ic movemt:lIl. III was perhaJls alrelilly being fomled •.. . through cuntinual deterrence from tile
dee.d o/nihifj, ,,.. which is l uici{le" (citell in Lowith , Nie tucheJ
Phil(l~opllie.
p . 108
merchandise now gathers around it the mass or its potential buyers. The totalitar--
[JIB .I]
ian states have take.n this mass as their model. TIle Vo/ltsgtmt£lIJduifi
On lh eaby.s. 81u.l on the phra.e " I balk al sleep ae if il were a hole": " Do yo u know the terror wh.ich al8aill him who is railing u. leep?- He it terrified down III his toea, because the ground tee ms 10 give way. and the dream begins" «Nietz l>Cbe.) Zara lhrufra . ed. Krijner [Leipzig), p . 215).,"1 [J8 1,2J Comparison or the " s inuoui lleece" with the " d eep and lipreading starlen Night!" [J8 1,3] (fina l Lines or " Lea Prome8ses d'un visage").""
The particulars of the boulevard press are, later, the sum and substance of the stock market reportS. Through the role that it gives to the talk of the town, thc: pehte prme paves the way for this stock market wonnation. [J81 ,4]
His confederates obstruct reality for the conspirator as the masses do fo r the Dinew-. 1J81.S) On the Right of images in allegory. It often cheated Baudelaire. out of pan of the returns on his allegorical imagery. One thing in particular is missing in Baudelaire's onployment of allegory. 1bi.s \\'e can recognize if we call to mind Shelley's great allegory on the city of London: the third pan of "Peter Bell the Third," in which London is presented to the ruder as hell. <See MlS.) The incisive effect of this poem deIX"ds, for the most part. on the fact that Shelley's grasp of allegory makes itself felt. It is this grasp that is missing in Baudelaire. This grasp, which makes palpable the distance of the modem poet from allegory, is precisely what enables allegory to incorporate into itself the most immediate realities. With what directness that can hapIX" is best shov.n by Shelley'S poem, in which bailiffs, parliamentarians, stock·jobbers, and many other types figure. The allegory, in its emphatically antique character, gives them all a sure footing, such as, fo r exam· pie, the bwinessmen in Baudelaire's "Cripuscule du soir" do not have.-Shelley rules over the allegory, whereas Baudelairt is ruled by it. {j81,6j Individuality, as such, takes on heroic outlines as the masses step more decisively into the picrure. 1bis is the origin of the conception of the hero in Baudelaire. ~ Hugo, it is a matter not of the isolated individual as such but of the democratic citizen. That implies a fundamental difference between the two poets. The resolu· tion of this discord would have, as precondition, the dispelling of the illusion (Schein) which it reflects. This illusory appearance comes from the concept of the masses. Considered apart from the various classes whicll join in its formatio n, the mass as such has no primary social significance. Its secondary significance depends o n the ensemble of relations through which it is constituted at anyone time and place. A theater audience, an anny, the population of a city comp~ masses whkh in themselves belong to no particular class. The free market mulu· plies these masses, rapidly and o n a colossal seale, uuofar as each piece of
adversary still confronting the state, which in this ravenow action becomes the agent or monopoly capital, is the revolutionary proletariat. This latter dispels the illusion of the mass through the reality of class. Neither Hugo nor Baudelaire could be directly at its side fo r that. (J8 Ia, l]
On the inauguratio n of the heroine: Baudelaire's antiquity is Roman antiquity. At omy one point-and it is. of course, irreplaceable-does Greek antiquity break intO his world. Greece presents him with that image of the heroine which appeared to him worthy and capable of being carried over intO modernity. Grea names stand at the head > of one of his greatest poems: "Femmes damnees: Delphine et Hippolyte." nle heroine
IJS'.!) On "Le Vm des chiffonniers" : the reference to "police spies" suggests that the ragman dreams of rerurning to combat on the barricades. [J82,2] ~City. 1 am an ephemeral and no t·too-discontented citiz.c:n of a metropolis obvi· ously modern because every known taste has been avoided in the furnishing3 and in the outsides of the houses. as well as in the layout of the city. Here you would not discover the least sign of any monument of sUperstitiOIL In short, morals and speech are reduced to their simplest expression. These millions of people, who have no need of knowing o ne another, conduct their education, their trade. and their old age with such sinUlarity that the duration of their lives must be several times sho ner than is the case, according to some insane statistics, with people on the continent." Anhul' Rimbaud, OtllureJ (Paris, 1924), pp. 229230 {I11umifl(lli(mJ) . ~ Disenchanmlent of "modemity"J [J82.3]
"C rilllinal s Ilillgu 8t me a~ if Ihey WI'I'r I:Cl illI·lllf'i." Arthu r Rimbaud , Oeuvre~ (Pal-il , 1924), p. 258 (U ,U'~ ,sai501l ell cli/er. " Maul'aill Suug"),'l" (J82,4]
One could try to show, using the example o r Baudelai.re. thatJugmdstil arises out of weariness-a weariness that manifestS itself, in his case, as tha t or the mime who has taken ofT his makeup. [J82 .5J
Modernity, in this work. is what a lnldemark is o n a piece of cutlery or an optical instrument. It may be:: as durable as one could wish; if tlle company which produced it at some point goes under, it will come to ~~ obsolete. Bur to impress a trademark on his work was Bauddaire's avowed intention. "To create a ponel! "m And perhaps, for Baude.1aire, there is no higher honor than to havr: imitated, to have reproduced, with his work this state of affairs, one of the most profane of all in the commodity economy. Perhaps this is Baudelaire's gt"tatest achievement, and c.c:nainly it is one of which he is conscious: to have become so quickly obsolete while remaining so durable. U82.6: J82a,l] TIle activity of the conspirator can be considered a sort of uprooting. comparable to that occasioned by the monotony and terror of the Second Empire. U82a.2] The physiologiesu:! were the first booty taken from the marketplace by the 8aneur-who, so to speak, went botani.zi.ng on the asphalt. {J82a,3] Modenuty has its antiquity, like a nightmare that has come to it in its slecp.U.
11 82 .,41 England remained, until late in the previous century, the graduate school of social consciousness. From there, Barbier brought back his cycle of poems enti· tled Law.n
1182. ,61 "H e hDil allain8! him . . . tlie title uf Le, Fkur3 du mal, which is a s ham litle, diaagreeaLly anecdotal , and which particularizes to excess the universalit y of hi, impulse." Hen ry Bataille, "Baudelaire," ComooJiu (Januar y 7. 192 1). U82a.7J
Apropos of "the nearly deafening street"l),j and other similar expressions, it should not be forgotten that the roads in those days were generally paved in cobblestone. [J82a.8] Nisurtl i ll 111(' fO"cword 10 the fir ... 1 I:.litiull of I.e Pofites lali" 1 de la decadence ( IS:H ): " 1 t'ndt'Hl'or 10 f')tp lain by what ner.eniliet; . .. II.e l!Unum 81lint IIrriv~s al Ihi8 singular >ttute uf exha ulitiun . in whidl the moti t buuntiful imaginutioll" .ore nu lunger ca lla ble of I.rue poetry anJ can managf' onl y to debase thcir Innguag"'8 with icandal. ... 1.11 conclll! iull . I touch 0 11 certain resemblances bel ween the poetry of
our time and that or the time of Luca ll . . .. tn a country VI'here lilerature governs tllt~ minds of 1111, 11 , and evt··n politio;, .. . lemb its voice to everything progressi ve, ... critici, m . .. is .. . a tBlik 0.1 once Iiu'! rary alld nlOral. " D. Nillard , Etudel de moeurl el de critique lur leI poiitelwliru de fa decadence ( Parill, 1849), vol. 1,
pp. x. xiv.
U83 ,I]
011 the feminin e ideal-'"'ghattly thin"-of Baudelaire : ""Bul it ill essentially the modern woman here, the French wonlao of the period preceding the in"entioD of the bicycle." Pie.... re Caume, " Ca usenes lI ur Baudelaire. fA NOI~velle Revue ( Pans. 1899), vol. 119. p. 669 . {J83,2] Nisa ...tI denoullcetl, as a l i~ or decatlellce ill Phae.lrus. "a continual , affec:ted employment of the abet.-act ror the eOllcrete . . .. Thus. instead of a IOllg neck, be says: ' length of neck. ' colli longitudo. n D. Nisard , Etude. de moeurIl et de critique sur fe, poete.wtiru de 10 decadence (Pa ... is, 1849). vol. I , pp. 45. 1183,3]
On the question of the declining birth.-ate and of balTenneu: "There ill no hOI.eful expeelation of the futu ...e, nor allY elan. without some guiding idea, some goal:' Jules Romainll, Ccw (iepend de vow (Pan s <1939», p . 104 , 1183,4]
"IntO the depths of the Unknown" -with this, compare the great passage by Turgot on the known: "I cannot admin:= Columbus for having said, 'The earth is round, and therefore by traveling westward I shall meet the land again: because the simplest things are often the most difficult to find.-But what distinguishes a hardy soul is the confidence with which it abandons itsdf to unknown waters on the faith of a deduction. What would genius and enthusiasm for truth be in a man to whom a known truln had givr:n such courage'" Turgot, O~"reJ (Paris, 1844), vol. 2, p. 675 ("PensW; et &agmen"") . ~ 1183,51 Being reduced. to rags is a specific fonn of poverty-by no means the superlative form. "'Poverty takes on the peculiar character of raggedness when it 0CCW1 amidst a society whose existence is founded on an inDicate and richly articulated system for the satisfaction of needs. Insofar as poverty borrows bits and pieces from this system, fragments isolated from all context, it becomes subject to needs from which it can find no . .. lasting and decent deliverance?' Hermann Lotze, MiArolwsmru, vol 3 (Leipzig, 1864), pp. 271-272.w lJ8311.l} Lotze's reflections on the worker who no longer hancUes a tool but operates a machine aptly illuminate the attitude of the consumer toward the commodity produced under these conditions. "He could still rt:cognize in every contour of the finished product the power and precision of his own fomlative touch. The participation of the individual in the work of the machine, by contraSt. is limited to . . . manual operations which bring forol nothing directly but merdy supply to an inscrutable mechanism the obscure occasion for invisible accomplishments." Hermann Lotze, Miirolu)Jmo.I, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864), pp. 272-273. 1J83a.2]
Allegory, as the sign that is pointedly set off against its meaning, has its place: in as the: antithesis to the beautiful appearance c&lrein) in which signifier and signified flow into each other. Dissolve this brittleness of allegory, and it forfeits all authority. That, in fact, is what happens with geme. It introduces "life" into allegories, which in rum suddenly wither like Bowers. Sternberger has touched on this state of affairs (Panorama (Hamburg, 1938" p. 66): "the allegory that has become a semblance of life, that has given up its lastingness and its rigorous validiry for the red pottage" oflife ,~~justly appears as a creation of the genre. In Jugendstil, a retrogressive process seems to set in. Allegory regains its brittleness. U83.,3) art
On the foregoing remarks by Lotte: the idler, the Bmeur, who no 'longer has any understanding of production, seeks to become an expen on the market (on prices). [J83a,4J " The challters 'Pcrsc<:uuon ' and ' Murder' in Apo Uinllire'lI Poete lLSsauine contain the famou s desf.rip uoll of a pOgTom against poels. Publis hing houses are stormed. hooki of poems thrown on the fire , poets beaten 10 death. And the lIame scenes aN! taking p lace al Ihe same time all over the world . In Aragon , ' Inlagmation ,' ill antici palioll of such horrors, mars hals its forces for a lasl crusade." Walter Benjamin , "'Der Silrrealis mu8," Die literamche Welt,S. no. 1 (February 15, 1929) ..m (J84,lJ
"It is hardly a coincidence that the cenrury which has long been that of the sttongest poetic language, the nin~teenth c~ntury, has also been that of d~cisive progress in th~ sciences." Jean-Richard Bloch, "Langage d 'utilite, langage poetique" (EngdopMie/ransaue, vol. 16 [16-50], p. 13}. lndicate how the forces of poetic inspiration, having been driven from their earlier positions by science, were compelled to make inroads into the commodiry ","'Qrld. (J84,2J On Ihe q U ~liitioJ\ raised by J .-R . Bloch. the qUCfltiou of the. developmelll of science and of pOt:Lic language. Chenier 's " invention" : All the artM conjoin. ami human IICijlnce
CoulcJ nOI extend the bounds (If its alliam;e
fact that a purely philological oomm~ntary has missed the mark with this poem. Yet the rd~vam datum is not so far afidd. Th~ piece corresponds with a particular passage from us Paradis artjjidt:l1. ft is this passage, however, that can shed light on the philosophical import of the poem. [J84.4] The following passage from UJ Paradu artjficieis is d~cisive for "Les Sept Vieillards." It makes it possible to trace the inspiration for this poem back to hashish: "The word 'rhapsodic: which so well pomays a train of thought suggested and dictated by the outer world and the hazard of circumstance, has a great and more terrible truth in relation to hashish. Here, human reason becomes mere Botsam, at th~ mercy of all currents, and the train of tllOUght is irifiTiilt:ly more accelerated and 'rhapsodic.''' Vol. 1, p. 303.4OtI [J84a,1] Comparison betw~en Blanqui and Baudelaitt, in pan d~riving from Brecht's fonnulations: the defeat of Blanqui was the victory of Bauddaire-of the petty bourgeoisie. BJanqui succwnbed; Baudelaire succeeded. Blanqui appears as a tragic figure; his betrayal has tragic greatn~ss ; he was brought down by th~ enemy within. Baudelaire appears as a comic figure-as the cock whose triumphal crowing announces the hour of betrayal. t1i1 [J84a,2)
If Napoleon III was Caesar, th~n Baudelaire was the Catilinarian existence. U8',,3)
Bauddaire unites the poverty of the ragpicker with the scorn of the cadger and the despair of the parasite. [J84a.4] The significance of the prose poem "Ferte d'aureole" cannot be overestimated. First of all, there is the remarkable pertinence of the fact that it spotlights the threat to the aura posed by th~ experience of shock. (Perhaps this relation can be clarified by reference: to metaphors of epilepsy.) Extraordinarily decisive, moreover, is the ending, which makes the exhibition of the aura from now on an affair of fifth-rate poets.-Fmally, this piece is important because in it the inhabitant of the big ciry appears menaced more by th~ traffic of coaches than he is nowadays by automobiles. [J84a,5]
Withtlllt r. nlargi ng Ihtl8 the scope: for ve.r~. Wha tl (m!!; travai l 10 win Ihe uni verfe !
CaLiline figures in Baudelai re among the dandies.-tIi!
A lIew C)'!'cle ond
Love for the prostirute is the apotheosis of empathy with th~ commodity.
II
hu ndred diffl'renl wor ld8 befall
deli vered fro m the ocea ll '~ Ihrall : Whal a wealth of wllrlll)' &C(~lIes. of images suMirnc. Bor n of those great 8ubjed8 re!lf:rv.:<1 for
Our
Ja8 0118
U85, I)
U85,')
flr~1
1J84.')
On "Les Sept Vieillards." The very fact that this poem stands isolated \v\thin Baudelaire's oeuvre fortifies the assumption tl13t it occupies a key position there. If this position has remained unnoticed until now, this may have to do with the
"'Recucillement" should be presented as Jugcndstil poetry. The dljtmtes amlits cdead yeafS)-I6.'\ as allegOlies in the style of Fritz Erler. [J85,3j The hatred for genre painting that can be discemed in Bauddaire's "Salons" is a sentiment rypicaJ ofJugends til. [J8S.4J
Among the legend8 which circulated ahout Baudelaire Is the foll owing: lie is 8UpIW!!Cd to have re~1I1 Balzac whiJe crou ing the Ganges . In Henri Grappin , .... Le l\1ysticisme pootillUC de C Uijtavc Flaubert." Revue de P(lriJ (December land 15, 1912), p . 852. (J85,5} " Life h as only (lnf! rei;) cha rm- the charm of gambling. But what if we d o not care whetber we ~'ill or 108e?" Oeuvru complete!, vol. 2 , p. 630 ("Fu&ees"). 1601 (J85,6] "Comnler ce il euentiaUy !atanic . ... Commer ce is sal anic buause it is one of the forml o( egoil m- the lowen and viJe8t ." Oeuvru comple,e!, vol . 2, p. 664 ("Mon (J85,7] Coeurrzm a nu·').1OS "What il love? The need to es<:ape (rom oneself.. , . The more a man cultiyates the arts , the leIS oClen he gets an erection .... To copulate i, to aspire to enter into another-and thea rti8t never emergea from himself," Oeu vre! complete., cvol. 2 . ~ PI" 655, 663.(J85,8] " It il partly a life of lei, ure that has en abled me to grow. To my great detriment(or leillure wilhout fortune breed, debts . . . . But a1so to my great pr06t , &8 re· ga'rds sensibility and meditation and the faculty of dandyism and dilletanti.sm. Other men o( lelte,.. are, for the most part , base ignorant drudges." Oeuvres complete•• yol. 2. p. 659 ("Mon Coeur .. ."). ,167 (J85.9] "~ I h ave (ull y proved . 10 work ill leu wearisome Ihan to amusconeself. Oeuvrft 11
comptele • . yol. 2, p. 647 ("Mon Coeur ... "}."""
(J85,lO]
On Ihe d ance o( death (compare K7a .3, the passage £rom Huxley): "The woodcuts with which the Parisia n printer Guyot March ant ornamenled the 6rst edition of Ihe Da ~e Mtlcabre in 1485 were. very probably, imitated fr om the most celebrated of III esc painted death danee&--namely, thai whkh, llince 1424. covered the waU! of the cloister of the cemetery of the Innocents in Pari •.... The d a nnin~ person whom we 8ee coming back forty time!! 10 lead away the living oripn. ll, represents nol Death itsel( bUI a corpse: the living man Buch aa he will prellentl, be. In the Htanus, lhe d ancer is called " the dead mao" or " the dead woman." II i, a d ance of Ihe dead and not of Death .... It is only toward lhe end of the century thai the fi gu re of the greal dancer, of a corpse witb ho llo~' anti A eshlc~8 body. becomcs Il skeleton , as Holbein depicl8 it. " J. Huizinga . Herbsl des Miueltllte r• (Munich , 1928). pp . 204-205.-11>'1 (J85a, IJ On ullegor y, " The cha racters in 1.£ Roman ck la Ro!e--Bd·Aeclleil , Duulce Mercy, Fa ux Semhlanl , HllmJ.le Requeste, Danger. Honle, Peul'-a re on a level "'ith tbe audlentic me.lieyal rcpresentatinnll of virtues and vice. ill huma n form: a llegorie. or, something more than this, half-belieyed mytbologems." J . Huizillga , lI erb$t de. Miuelczlten (Mllnich. 1928), p. 162. ••• [J85a,2j
On " the metaphyIJicII of the agent provocateur"; " Without heillg too prejUlUced in the maUe r, un >:; !IIay 81m red II lillie u neasy in reading l.£! iUy, 'en!$ e a1mu [Le. M,vd ere! 8 (11(""1 de! theUt re. tie l'(lri$]'7' 10 think lhllt B a udelai r~ hud a hand in tws. If he hilllsdf lias dis()wllcd t.hi, piece of youthfuJ extravagance, there are lIonethdell! gun,1 rt!al!O Il H fllr hclieving, with M. Crepel, th at he is in facl one of the a llthor~. FlI'rt: then is • Ba lulr illire on the brink o( blackmail, lipite(u! towa rd aU success? Thill wOllld 8uggest thatlhroughout hill ra reer. from tbese MYllere! to tbe Am oenitate! Belgicue, the grea t poel had need . from time to time. (If voiding a sac of venum.·' J ean Prel'ost , rel·jew of lhe work mentionoo. La No tluelle R elJlJe / ru n(;aiJe, 27 , no. 308 (May I, 1939). p. 888. [J85a,3J Apt'QI)()8 o ( Baudelaire', " Au Leeteur." "The fir81 six book8 of Ihe Confeu jo~ have ... a certain ~lIly a llt age built into th!!ir very subject : each reader, inso(ar •• lie i8 lIot the 81ave o( Lilera ry or muudane prejudice•• becomes an accomplice." Amlre Monglon.I , 1.£ Prero ",un'i!rtl~ frnn ({(lill, \' 0 1. 2, Le Muj"re dell a mes sensibks (Grenobltl. 1930), II. 295. (J86, 1]
In an important passage by de Maistre, we not onJy encounter aUegory in its satanic provenance, and in the very perspective that wouJd la ter be that of Baudelaire; we also discover-here invested with the mysticism of Saint-Martin or Swedenborg-the corrdp01ldanw. And these latter constitute, revealingly. the antidote to allegory. The passage is found in the eighth of W Soirlel tk Saintlttmbourg. and reads: "One can form a perfectly adequate idea of the universe by considering it under the aspect of a vast museum of natural history exposed to the shock of an earthquake. The door to the collection rooms is open and broken ; there art no more windows. Whole d rawers have fallen out, while others hang by their hinges, ready to drop. Some shells have rolled out into the hall of minerals, and a hwnmingbi.rd's nest is resting on the head of a crocod.iJe. What madma.n, though, could have any doubt of the original intention, or believe that th~ edifice was built to look thi.5 way? ... The order is as visible as the disorder; and the eye that ranges over this mighty temple of nature reestablishes without difficulty all that a fatal agency has sha nered, warped, soil~d, and displaced. And th~re is more: look closely and you can recognize already the effeCtS of a restoring hand . Some beams have been shored up, some paths cut through the rubblei and, in the general confusion. a multitude of analogue; have. already taken their place once again and come into contact."m [J86,2) O n Baudelaire's prosody. A phrase has been applied to it that originally referred to Racine: "graze the prose. but with wing5." [J86,3J CnllC~ rllilig Blluddair,,', " Voyal;c II Cythcre": C}'1hr./'a is Iln"! r". delllell'iI an d IUlliubri"u!I. Ahsurd ,Iea lh '~ l...aJ or tl.t! drellm or love. Am I 5l~lI m ; nl!
skllll
Or lll"lI ~ ur.·
...
No ",orO! heo!8 sipping ~le wdrOIJ and thymI:. (lut . lwaYB thO! blue aky aloo"e. Victor
1'1111];0.
Le, Contempw l.iolil (·'Cerigo·').
Hermann Wendcl , ".Jules Valle,;' Die p. 105.
" e lle
Zeil. 3 1.
IUt .
I (Stultgart, 191 2), [J87,3]
[J86a.l ] "W h ~n
The theory of poetry as facul ty of cxpression-"Where other Olen must suffer grief in silence,l A god gave me the JXM"ef to speak m y painnll'l_is formulated with particular decisiveness by Lamartine in the "first" (it is actually the second) preface to his MiditatiotU of 1849. The "striving for originality at all costs," to say nothing of an authentic refIection on original possibilities, preserves the poetBaude1aitt above all-from a poetics of mere expression. Lamartine writes: "I imitated no one; I expressed myself for myself. There was no an in this, but o nJy an easing of my own hean.... I took no thought of anyone in putting down these: lines hen: and there, unless it was of a ghost and of God:' Les GralldJ Ecriuains tk la FraMe, vol. 2, "Lamartine" (Paris, 1915), p. 365. [J86a.2] Apropos of Lafargue's n:mark about the "crude comparisons" in Baudelaire (J9,4). Ruff observes: "'The originality of these comparisons is not so much in their 'crudity' as in the artificial character-which is to say. hUrruJn character-of the inlages: wall,lid, the wings of a stage. The 'correspondence' is understood in a sense opposite to that customarily proposed by the poets, who lead us back to nature. Baudelaire, by an invincible propensity, recalls us to the idea of the human. Even o n the human plane, if he wishes to magnify his description by an image, he will often look for some other manifestation of humanity rather than having n:course to nature: 'the chimney-pots and steeples, dle ciry's mast;. '"411 Marcel A. Ruff, "Sur l'Architecture des Fleurs du maJ." Rwue d 'histoire littlrain tk la Fra1Ut, 37, no. 3 (July-September 1930), p. 398. Compare the phrase "whose fingers point to heaven; in the paragraph o n Meryon ~2,h .-The same motif. rendered innocuous and put into psychological terms, in Rattier's conversion of the Baneur to industrial activity. [J86a,3) III Barbier ', l)Oem "Le, Milleurs de Newcutle," the e.iglllh stanza cOllchulel Ihis way : " And many a Olll! who dreams, within his secret lIoul. I Of doml!sticcomforu, IiInd his wife', blue eyes, I Discovers in the pit's embrace an el'erhutin~ tomb." AUgu HII! Barbier. la m bes el./memel (Paris, L841), liP, 240-24 1; from IliecoUec.tioli Lazare. which is !luled 1837. alill which records his impresiliolill of Englalili . Compare thege lincli to the last two lincs of"Le Crepuscule du soir.·· [J87, 1] Professional conspirator and dandy meet in the concept of the modem hero. This hero represents for himself, in his own person, a whole secret society. [j87,2]
On Ih., 1!"n/'r llliOIl uf Va lJe~: " It is thaI gencration which, under the lIa rlen Ilk)' of Ihe SecI,,\tl Elnpirt·, grew UI) in the (ace of II . •• fulure without faith IIr grelttllcs", to
is II 1·lIurlier ... not idle ami cllntemplll liveT' Lu Bruyere.
[J87,4)
Re5l1r
Early high capitalism, defined by Wiesengnmd Oeuer ofJune 5, 1935) as "modernity in the striCt St~." (J87,8) On idleness: Baudelaire's satanism-of which so much has been made-is nothing more than his way of taking up the challenge which bourgeois society flings at the idle poet. 'Ibis satanism is only a reasoned reprise of the cynical and destructive velleities-delusions, in the main-that emanate from the lower depths of society.~l1 [J87,9] On idlenen. " Hercule, ... labored tuo , ... bUllhe goal of hill career WII S r eally a1wa)'s a suhlime lei8ure. and for that n::a80n he became one of the 0lympillu8. Not iIO this Prometheus, the in ventur of education alld enliYttenment. , . , Beeause he seduced mankind intu working, [he] now ha, to work himself. whether he wants to or not. He'U have I)lellt)' of opportunhy to be ho red, and will Dever be free of his r.hainll. It Friedrich Schlegel, Lflci,lde (l.eip7.ig), 1'1" 34-35 (" ld)'Ue tiber den MUlllIiggallg"
" UuudeJuire'" wI'.ighty phru ing, chllrg~ 1 lUI though with "uid e.I~tricity:' Jules Rena rd . j (Ju maL
"Meanwhile darkness dawns, filled with demon familian I Who rouse , reluctant as businessmen, to their affairs."·1Il...-.1t may not be o ut of place to find here a reminiscence of Poe's desaiption of the crowd. (J87a ,5] Just as in "A Une Passante" the crowd is neither named nor described, so the paraphemalia of gambling make no appearance in "uJeu." [J87a,6] to Cabet, to Fourier, and to the roving Saint·Simonian utopians, Blanqui can be imagined only in Paris. Moreover, he represents himself and his ...."Ork i! belonging only in Paris. At the opposite pole is Proudhon's conception of great cities (Alla,2)! [J87a,7}
In contrast
Extracts from the preface which Pyat l'IJ"Ote for the 1884 edition of I.e Chiffonn~ de ParU
bourgeoisie. and ending with the people. And the initiative fo r that end. in Us $e1'TUrUn, had to reach its basic principle, its very center of gravity, in Le ChfflOn'Ii". FOr while bourgeois art .. . displayed its radiance in Hemani, Ruy Bias, and other 10VUlI of queens, . .. republican art . . . was announcing another dynasty, that of the ragpickers .. . . On February 24, 1848, at noon, after the victory over the monarchy of Louis Philippe, the drama of 'rags and tatters' was perfonned gratis befo re the anned and triumphant populace. It was during this memorable perfonnance that the actor ... recovered the cro\'lll in the baskeL What a historic day! What an indesaibable e£feo! Author, actors, dittctor. and spectators. all standing tcgr:ther and clapping their hands to the singing of La MarJeillaist, to the sound of cannon.... 1 have spoken of the birth and the life ofJean. As for his death :Jcan was crushed, like the Republic. beneath the landslide of December.4a The play had the honor of being condenmed together with its author, who had seen it applauded in London. in Brussels, everywhe~ except Paris. Thus, in a society based on the family-and at a time when ... the rights of incest, in &ni, the rights of adultery, in Antony, the rights of the brothel, in Rolla, all enjoyed an open 6e1d-Jean, representing the rights of the family, was proscribed by the saviors of family and society?' Rlix Pyat, I.e ChjjJonm'er de Paris, drama in 6ve acts (Paris, 1884), pp. iv- viii. [J88;j88a,1] It would appear that Baudelairc has given no thought to the classical corso of £Ianerie-the arcade. But in the lyric design of IOU Crtpuscu1e du marin," which concludes "Tableaux parisiens," the canon of the arcade can be ~cognized. The cenrra1 portion of this pDWl is composed of nine couplets which, while chiming one with ano ther, remain well sealed ofT from the p~ceding as well as the follow· ing pairs of lines. The reader moves through this poem as through a gallery lined with showcases. In each one, the immaculate image of naked misery is on display. The poem closes with two quatrains that, in their presentation of things earthly and celestial, match each other like pilasters. (J88a,2] The infernal time of gaming is something Baudelairc got to know less through the actual practice of gambling than through those seasons when he was prey to spleen. [J88a,3] "Pa ris , wilen seen in a ragpic ker 's hamper. is nothing much .... To think that I h.y" all Pa ris he re in this wicker basket .. . r· Fronl I)Y31 , Le ChifJonnier. ci ted in (Jean> Cassou. Quorante-hllit (Paris <1939>),11. 13. {J88a,4] The Cite !)orec""" was tile ragpickers' metropoli l>.
1188•.5J
Portrait of Blall'lui hy Ca!l§ou ; " Blallljlu was forllu;d 10 act-to act wi thout ostentation o r scntimc ntality ; he j:ould gr llS" what pver WIl8 8trictl y real aud Itutliclltlc in the situation at hand . Bu t the " overty. obs(,urit y. a lltl (~ hl c nelS of the . ituation restricted IIi, ndioll to n Ae ries of fruitless sorties " nci to un acceptance of 10 llg impriijOllmclIl . lie knew hiIllM e!( cUII!\eJllned to a pun-ly preparatory and symbolic
a i ~ l cnce.
tu an a ltituJe of patiencc with the gloom and fetters. And hi8 wbole life was 8pent in Ihis t;latc of mind. [I e hecllllle, ill time , a wan allliemaciated old man. But II .. will never be cOlilluered . He cannot be conquered." J ean Can on, Quar_ an'e-hlli, (Paris), p. 24. (J89,l j
Conarning Hugo, but also Baudelaire's "Les Petites VicilJes" (neither men· tioned here by Cassou): "For such, indeed, is the novelty of the Romantic <:en. rury : it is the scandalous presence of the satyr at the table of the gods, the public manifestation of beings without name, beings without any possibility of exist· encc-slaves, Negroes, monsters, the spider, the nettle." Jean Cassou, Qyarantehuil (Paris), p. 27. (One thinks here of M anes description of clilld labor in England.)m [J89,2)
It would perhaps not be: impossible to find in BaudeJaire's poem "Paysage" an echo of '48 and of the mysticism of work characteristic of that time. And it might not be: inappropriate to think, in this cOIUlection, of the fonnula coined by Cassou with reference to Jean Reynaud's -rerre et del: "The \r\brkshop expands all the way to the stars and invades eternity." Jean Cassou, Qyarante-huiJ (Paris), p. 47. [J89,3) ~Tt:gier. VeJ ChJue& dongerewe. de fa population d011J k, g rande. viik. (et th. moyenJ de leJ rendre meiUeuren (Paris. 1840). vol. 2, p. 347: "The wage! of the ragpicker. like those of the worker, an: inseparable from the prosperity of indUItry. The latter has . like nature itaelf. the sublime privilege of breeding with its own debriJ. T hi.ll privilege is the more precious for humanit y 81 it propaSlltellifewithiD the lower levels of society, while making the intermediate a nd highest levelA the ornament of wealth ." Cited in Ca88oll , Quaronte-huil . p. 73 . [J89.4j
" F'or Oanltl is the COllstant model of the5e men of ' 48. They are imbued with his langulISi: and h.is tales. lind , like him , are committed to proscription; they are hearers of a vagabond homeland . charged with prophetic tidings. accompanied by shadows and voices." J elln CIIUOU. Quurante-huit (Paris), p. Ill . [J89a,lj CaS80tl, descrihing Oaumier's models: .. the huncbed silhouette8 of men in long shabby frock coats who are looking at engravings. and all tholle Bll udelairean characten. descendants of J ean-Jaeq ue8' liolitary walker.... J ea n Cassou , Qual'(1II1e-hllit (Paris), II . 149. [J89a,2j Regarding a ooIUlection that Illay be fell between Baudelaire's "generosity ~f heart" and his sadism , one should refer to ProUSt'S portrait of Mlle. Vmteuil (which. by the way, was probably conceived as a self·portrait): "'Sadists' of Mlle. Vmteuil's sort are creatures so purely ~ntimc:nta1, so virtuous by nature, that even scnsua1 pleasure apP'=ars to them as something bad. a privilege reserved for the wicked . And when they allow themselves fo r a moment to enjoy it., thq endeavor to imperso nate, to assume aU the outward appearance of wicked pco--
pie, for themselves and their partners in guilt, so as to gain the momentary illusion of having escaped beyond the control of their own gentle and scrupulous natu.reS i.n to th~ inhwnan world of pleasure." Marcel Proust, Du COti de cha Swann, vol. I, p. 236. I"-One might also think here of Anatole Franc~' ! note on the Bauddaircan erotic. Yet one is justified in asking whether every sadism is structured like this o ne, since the conccpt of evil to which ProUSt relates it seems to exclud~ awareness. Sexual intercourse between human partners (in contrau to that between .mimals) includes awareness, and would thus perhaps also include a more or less high degree of sadism. Baudelaire's reflections on the sexual act would therefore carry more weight than this Proustian apologetic. [J89a,3j On the suhject of Ihe ragpicker, compa re tbe conditions in England described by Marx in the &e/;tion " Die moJ erne l'olanufa ktur." in DaJ Kapitul «vol. I ,) ed. Kuneh
In Baudelaire's theory of art, the motif of shock comes into play not only as prosodic principle. Rather. this same motif is operative wherever Baudelaire appropriates Poe's theory concerning the importance of surprise in the work of art.-From another perspective, the motif of shock emerges in the "scornful laughter of heU"·" which rOUSes the startled allegorist from his brooding. [J'O,2]
On information, advertisements, and feuilletons : the id.1eyI'Y must be: fumi5hed with sensations, the merchant with rustomers, and the man in the street with a world view. (J90,3j Aprop<'!iI .,f ·· Reve I'urisien ." Crepet «(in Baudelaire, l.e~ FiellrJ du mal, Oeuvre", r.uIII/" eteJ.) Conllnl edition [ 1~ari 8, 1930]. p. 463) ci les a pa $~ llge from a leiter to Aipholll;c III~ CIIIOIIIIC: " Movemenl gelieruUy implies uoise, to the extent that Pythagoru I llriblilcu lIIu ~ic to the moving spheres. Bul dream, whicll 1H:)llIralee llting>la llli hreak,~ IiiI'm Ilown . Crf!att'8 the new. "1'0 , CrelW.t further dte8 un article which Erlletit 11,·110 puhlii!lu'd in La RMJ ucJrom;uiJe of NO\'ember 1858. und,:r the litJe ·' 011 genre fa lltlll8lillue'" ,The Cenre of the f'antastir> , and which 8BUlIdaire would have lleell . UeUo writea: '·In the symbolic: orller. bea ut y dantb in inverse prop
fint , veAeul.L1e kIngdom next . mineral kingdom lael . Ae i, ~ded by the order of life. The poet will 5MY: mineml kingdom flnl. vegetable kingdom afler thai. and Ullimal k ingdom lU I. He will be guided hy the or.ler of Leaut y:' {j90,4]
housa abutted with one yard after another, ... and with blind aJJeys. Photography is useless hen:. Hence, we rum to the engravings of the great draftsman Merron." Fritz Stahl, PariJ (Berlin <1929» . p. 97. [j91, 1)
Apropo8 of " I~' Horloge, " C repet (Conard, p . 450): " A correspondent for L'l nlermedia ire des CMrcheurs et curieux (Tbe Organ of the Lllfluisitive aud the CuriOlin, M. Ch . Ad. C. (Septemher 30. 1905), reported that Baudelaire had removed Ihe hands from hi8 clock and wrinen on the face : ' It's later than you think! '" {j90a,1]
Insight into the physiognomy of "overpopulated Paris" is afforded by the background-empty of human beings-in Meryon's Pont au (hal/gr:. On this back· grotUld we meet with one or twO very narrow (window-wide) and, as it were, spindJy houses. Their window openings strike the viewer like gazes : they bring to mind the gazes of those spindJy, hollow-eyed children who appear-often gathered together in great numbers-in pictures of poor people from that era, and who stand there abashed and close-packed in a comer like the tenements in Meryon's engraving. (J91 ,2)
On nOl'elty anll the £amiliar: "One of my dream8 was the synthesis ... of a certain seagirt place and iu medieval »ast . . . . This dream in whiell . . . the sea b ad turned gothic. this drcam in which •.. I helieved Ihall wa ~ attaining to the imPOBsihle--it seemed to me that I had often dreamed it before. But as it ill the property of whal we imagine in our sleep to multiply itself ill the "ast, and to appear, even whclI novel , familillr, 1 IiUPPOled that 1 wa ~ mistaken." Marcel Proust, La COle de Cuerrnanle. (Paris, 1920), vol. I, p.13L 'I~1 [J90a,2]
A rigorously Baudelairean reminiscence in ProUSl. to which, above all, the comments on Meryon (in "Salon de 1859") should be ~mpared. ~ust s~ of railroad starions as "those vast, glass·roofed sheds, like that of Samt·Laz.are uUO which 1 must go to find the train for Balhec, and which extended over the rent bowels of the city one of those bleak and boundless skies, heavy with an a~u larion of dramatic menaces, like catain skies painted with an almost ~latl modernity by Mantegna or Veronese, beneath which could be acco~plished only some solenlll and tremendous act, such as a departure by tram or ~ Elevation of the Cross." Marcel Proust, A /'Omhre ,us jrontsfiJ/es tnfituTS (Paris), va1.2, p_63 .on
1J90 •.3J
T he 8tam:a beginning «If rape and arso n ." from " An Leeteur." ill cited. hy Proust ( Lo P ritonniere (Pari;;. 1923). vol. 2> p . 241 ) with thi8 characteristic addition: "But I can at least assume that Buudelaire is not sincere. Whereas OOl toevsky . . . " At iu ue is the latter '8 " prt!Occupalion with murder." This all in a . WlUI '.' AILI)crtlne. ~ . I~l [J90a,4] convenaUon Apropos of "A Une Passante": "When Albertine returned to my room, she wal wearing 8 gamlent of black l atin which had the effect of making her &eelll paler, of turning her into the pallid , a rdent PariBian. etiolated by want of fresh air, by the atnlOsphere of crowd8 and perhaps by hllhitual vice . whose eye~ seemed more reRtlees because they wen: not brightened by any color ill her cheek ... " Mareel [J90a.5] ProU81, Lt. PrLrormiere (PUril, 1923). vol. I , p , l 38.m
Meryoll shows himself equal to the compecicion provided by photograp~y. It was probably the Wt time this was possible ror a graphic artist, as far as the l1Ua~ of the city is concerned. Writing about medieval Paris, Stahl says tha~ on the. sIte of the ancient curia "arose buildings that wen: much too large, agamst which the
C()nccrnlng Meryon '8 ven;e8 on the PODI Neuf <J2,3), compar e- the old Parisian [191 ,3] expreHsinn . " li se pOrte comme Ie ponl neuf" ("he is h ale and hearty" ).
Baudcla.i.re. greal despiser of the countryside. of greenery and fields , nevertheless has this peculiarity : No onc could be less inclined to view the big city as something ordinary, narural, acceptable. 4tJ [J91.4] Baudcla.i.re bad the good fortune to be the contemporary of a bourgeoisie: that could not yet employ, as accomplice of its domination, such an asocial type as he represented. Thc incorporacion of a nihilism inm its hegemonic apparatus was reserved for the bourgt:oisie of the twentieth century. [19 1,5] " I Clln ulider stMUU how it is that city dweller8 , who 8ee only walls a nd streellland crimes. have so Little religion." J ean-Jacquet! Rou.sseau , us Con/eumru. ed. Hitsum (Pari8
A criterion for deciding whether or not a city is modem: the absence of monuments. "New York is a city without mo numents " (DobJin). -Meryon rumed the tenements of Paris into monuments of modernity.
(J91 a, I)
In the introduction to his published translation of one of Poe1s tales in L'IIlUJtration (April 17, 1852), Baudelaire characterizes the American aut.hor's field of interests, and mentions, among other things, Poe's "analysis of the eccentrics and pariahs of this world " (Cb<arles) B
.
AtJlcriCIl. Near the Cllpilol , the ruofs alread y reached to the level of the hill ~s addJe, lJul lI.lwaYli Ihe IiplemJid tJI ,uls-citi e~ harhor latJIentahle poverty and degrllded habits , Dutltllt: DlI.ic. and mansu rlb, tlie cello.f1I and hack Courlllare h reeding 8 new type of raw Ili ull . . .. Di(Hloruli l ell ~ of a deposed Egyptian king who Will reduced 10 li\'ing in olle of thcse wre tclll~tl UplJe ....floor tenements of Rome," Oswllid Svcngler. Le Dedi" de {'Occident
(J92.2]
MFrom the beginning, the proclamation o f Equality as a constitutional principle
was not on1 y an advance for thou ght, but a danger as well " (Max H orkhe.imer, "M aterialism us und M oral; ZritJehriflfiir Sozial.forJdzung[1933), no . 2, p . 188.)"1 Within the zone. of this danger lie the absurd unifonnities in Poe's d escription of the crowd. The hallucination o f the seven identical old m en is in the same mold. (J92,S] It is onl y as commodity that the thing has the effect o f alienating human beings from one another. It p rodu ces this effect through its price. What is d ecisive is the empathy with the exchange v alue of r.he commodity, with its equalizing substrate. one absolUle qualitative invariance of the time in which labor that generates exchange value runs its coUJ'SC-such absolute equality is the grayish background against which the gaud y colors of sensation stand o ut.)
[J92,4]
Regarding spleell . 8hmilUi to Lacftmhre. S~ "l elllber 16, 1853: " Even the Dews from the true Empire o£lhe D~IHIIIIUI:I II M! more interesting than the newlI from thi8 dismal hall in Ihe Kingdom of Ibe S halll~" where we are being qua rail tined . Notluug more wretched than tbis ahut-away existence. thi!! tosllillg and turning a l the bottom of a j ar, likeelliden tryi ng to filliithe WD y (Jul ." Ma urice Domma ngel, Blanqlli. Ii BeUe-lle< Parili. 1935), p. 250. 1192,51 After II vaill attempt a t flight from Bd.ie-Isle, Olanqui wa ~ throwD for a month into the dungeon known all "'Chiiteau fo'ouIluel. " Dommangel r e£ers to " the dreary and oppressi" e lIucceuioD of hOUri and minutes that hammer the ~ ku1I." Maurice {j92a, l ] Dommanget . Blanqui Ii BeUe·lle , p. 238. The following lineH £rom Barbier should be compared with pa rts o£ Baudelaire', poem " Paysage. >1 Cited in Silinte-Heuve, Porlraits contemporains, vol. 2 (Pan., 1882). p . 234 ("Briseux et Auguste Barhier "). What inex pN:ssiiJJe happin""s, what P.e81811y, To be a living ra y of divinit)'; To look down (rom Ihfl orb ..d canop y of heaven On the dU81of world. glietenin g hclow, To hear, at every insta nt of their hrighl awak ening, A thousand eune at th .. ir .ong; like L1le bird.r Ob, what felicity 10 live Ilmong thin gs of bea uty, And to eavor the . weet"""s witboul needinl! rea8(llUl! How lovd )' 10 he weU without wi8hing; to he beller, And withoul ever htvinll to tire of Ihe . ki,.,.!
U92a,2]
K [Dream City and Dream House, Dreams of the Future, Anthropological Nihilism, jung]
primacy over history. The facts beeome something that just now firs t happened to us, first sauck us; LO establish them is the affair of memory. Indeed, awakening is the great exemplar of memory: the occasion on which it is given us to remember what is closest, tritest, most obvious. What Proust intends with the experimental rearrangement of furnir:u.re in matinal half-slumber, what Bloch recognizes as the darkness of the lived moment,' is nothing other than what here is to be secured on the level of the historical, and collectively. There is a not-yetconscious knowledge of what has been: its advancement' has the suucture of a",,-akening. {KJ ,2]
My good father had been in Paris. - Karl Gutzkow, Bn'rft QILI Paris (Leipzig, 1842), vol. I, p. 58
Library where the books have melted into one another and the titles have faded away. -Dr. Pierre Mabilk, ~l"rtfacc . 1'EllIgt dts prilUpl j1Dpu/airt.J,~ Mi"l)laure, 2, no. 6 (\'VUlta 1935), p. 2
111c Pantheon r.usillg itli somber dome toward the 50IIlbu dome of the sky. -l\mJon du Tcrn.il, Us Dra!ll# tU PariJ>vol I. p. 9'
Awakening as a graduatfO:d process that goes on in the life of the individual all in the life of generations. Sleep iu initial sta~. A generation's experience of youth has much in common v.;th the experience of dreams. Its historical configuration is a dream configuration. Every epoch has such a side turned toward dreams, the child's side. For the previous cenrury, this appears very dearly in the arcades. But whereas the education of earlier ~nerarions a plained these dreams for tb~ in tenus of tradition, of religious doctrine, present-day education simply amounts to the distraction of children. Proust could emer~ as an unprecedented phenomenon only in a generation that had lost all bodily and natura1 aids to remem· branc~ and that, poorer than before, was left to itself to take possession of the worlds of childhood in merdy an isolated. scattered. and pathological way. What follows here is an apc:riment in the technique of awakening. An attempt to become aware of the dialectical-the Copernican- tum of remembrance. [K l ,I]
-[be Copernican revolution in historical perception is as foUows . Fonnerly it was thought that a fixed point had been found in "what has been," and one saw ~e prescnt engaged in rentatively concentrating the forces of knowl~dge on this ground. Now this relation is to be ovenurneci, and what has been 15 to berome the dialectical reversal-the 8ash of awakened eonsciousness. Politics attains
ThCK is a wholly unique experience of dialectic. The compelling-the drasticexperience, which refutes everything "gradual" about becoming and shows all seeming "development" to be dialectical reversal, eminently and thoroughly composed, is the awakening from dream. For the dialectical schemawm at the core of this process, the Chinese have often found , in their fairy taJes and novellas, a highly pregnant expression. The new, dialectical method of doing histo presents itself as the an of experiencing the present as waking ,",'Orld, a world to which that dream we name the past refers in auth. To pass through and carry out Wlull has been in remembering the dreamt-Therefore : remembering and awaking are most intimately related. Awakening is namely the dialectical, Copernican rum of remembrance. [Kl,3] The nineteenth century a spacetime
configuration, they are as much natural processes as digestion. breathing, and the like. They stand in the cycle of the eternally selfsame, until the collective seizes upon them in politics and history emerges. [KI.S)
0
~ ~
w
~
"Who wiu inhabit the ""tern III home? Who will pray in the church where he W &.II baptized? Who will still know the room when;" be raised his first ell'. whert: he ",-itncued II las t breath? Who will he able to relit his brow wove tlle lIill or II window where, tiS II youth. he would hu n formed those wilking dreams which are the grace of dawn within the long and ImBiber servitutlc of life? 0 rooLS of joy torn from the tmman IOU)! " Louis Veuillol, Les Odeurl de Paru (Pans, 1914). p . II. [Kla,t]
Ii
j
.... J u
The fact that we wert: children during this time belongs together with its objective image. It had to be this way in order to produce this generation. That is to say: we seek a teleological moment in the context of dreams. Which is the moment of waiting. The dream waits secretly for the awakening; the sleeper surrenders himself to death only provisionally, wailS for the second when he will cunningly wrest himself from its clutches. So, too, the dreaming collective, whose children provide the happy occasion for its own awakening. 0 Method 0 (Kla,2)
.;
~
:t
A ~
•c
"
t:l c
~
:01
\
Task of childhood: to bring the new world into symbolic space. The child, in fact, can do what the grownup absolutdy cannot: recognize the new once again. Forus locomotives already have symbolic character because we mel with them in childhood. Our children, however, will find this in automobiles, of which we ourselves see only the new, elegant, modem, cheeky side. There is no more insipid and shabby antithesis than that which reactionary thinkers like Klages try to set up between the symbol-space of nature and that of techno~o~. To each truly new configuration of nature-and, at bottom, tedmology IS Just such a configuration-there correspond new "images." Every childhood discovers th~ new images in order to incorporate them intO the image stock of hwnaruty. Method 0 [KIa.3}
I
o
It is not on1y that the forms of appearance: taken by the dream coUective in the nineteenth century cannot be thought away; and not only that these fomlS characterize this coUective much more decisivdy than any other-they an:: also, rightly interpreted. of the highest practical import, for they allow us to recognize the sea on whieh 'we navigate and the shore from which we push off. It is here, therefore. that the "critique" of the nineteenth cenrury-to say it in one wordought to begin. The critique not of its mechanism and cult of machinery but of its narcotic historicism, its passion for masks, in whicll nevertheless lurks a signal of true historical existence, one which the Surrealists were the first to pick up. To decipher this signal is the concem of the present undertaking. And the revolutionary materialist basis ofSum::alism is sufficient warrant for the fact that, in this signal of true historical existence, the nineteenth cenrury gave supreme expression to its economic basis. fK13.6) Attempt [0 develop Giedion's thesis. "In the nineteenth century," he writes, "construction plays the role of tile subconscious."J \-\buldn't it be better to say "the role of bodily processes"-around which "artistic" architectures gather, like dreams around the framework of physiological processes? [K1a.7] Capitalism was a narural phenomenon with which a new dream-filled sleep came over Europe, and, through it, a reactivation of mythic forces. [Kla,8] The first tremors of awakening serve to deepen sleep.
"Slrange. by the way. lhllt when we lurvey thil whole inteUeclual movemenl, Scrihe appear. III the only one to occupy himself directly II nti thoroughly with the present. Everyone else bllHies himself more with thll l.ast tlUln with the powen and iOlere~ll that w i their own time in motion .... It was the past, moreover-it Willi the hi!ltory of philosophy-that rueled eclectic d octrine; and. filiQ Uy, it wat the history or literature wh08e treasures were disclosed , in ViUmnain, by a criticism incapable of ent erin~ mOre deel,ly into the literary life or iu own period." Julius Meyer. Geschichle der modernellfran.:o,illchenll1alerei (Leipzig, 1867), pp . 4 1 ~
416.
It is remarkable that constructions in which the expert recognizes anticipations of contemporary building fashions impress the alert but architecturally unschooled sense not at all as anticipatory but as distinctly old-fashioned and dreamlike. (O ld railroad stations, gasworks, bridges.) [Kla.4] " T he nind~nth century : singular fusiol! of individualistic and collectivist tendendes . Unlike virlUaUy every pre\;OU8 age. itlabt:ls aU actiond ' individualistic' (ego, natinn. art) while s ubtt!rraneanly. in despised everyda y domaillS. it nece811arily furllisbe8. a8 in II delirium, th ~ elements ror a collective formation . .. . With tlIis r llw material , we must occupy ou rselvcs--with gruy builtlings, ma rket hu lls, de-partnlCnl stort.• • exhibitiollll." Sigfried Giedion. 8twell in Frallkreich (Leipzig and Berlin). I). 15. [K1a.S]
[Kla,9)
[K2, I]
What the child (and, through faint rem.iniscence, the man) discovers in the pleats of the old material to which it clings while trailing at its mother's skirts-that's what these pa~ should contain. 0 Fashion 0 [K2.2) It is said that the diaJectical method consists in doing justice each time to the Concrete historical situation of its object. But that is not enough. ror it is just as much a matter of doing justice to the concrete historical situation of the inlm:st taken in the object. And this situation is always so constituted that the interest is itself prdorrued in that object and, above all, feels this objea- concn=:rized in itself :llld upraised from its fomler being into tile higher concretion of now·being <J tht.u in> (waking beingl). In what way this now-being (which is something other
than the now-being of "the present time" <]elltuih, since it is a being punctuated and intermittent) already signifies, in itself, a higher concretion- this question, of course, can be entertained by the dialectical method only within the purview of a historical perception that a t all points has overcome the idcology of progress. In regard to such a perception, 0 0(: could speak of the increasing concentration (integration) of reality. such that everything past (in its time) can acqu~ a higher grade of actuality than it had in the moment of its existing. How it marks itself as higher acruality is determined by the image as which and in which it is comprehended. And this dialectical penetration and aaualiz.atiOD of fo rmer COntexts puts the truth of all present action to the test Or rather. it serves to ignite the explosive materials that are latent in what has been (the audlemic figure of which isfashi(Jtl). To approach, in this way, "what has been" means to trtat it not IUstoriographically, as heretofore, but politically, in political categories. 0 Fashion []
[K2,3J The imminent awakening is poised, like the wooden horse: of the Greeks, in the
Troy of drea=,
[K2,4J
On the doctrine of the ideological superstructure. It seems, at first sight, that Marx wanted to establish here only a causal relation between superstructure and infrastructure. But already the observation that ideologies of the superstruaure reflect conditions falsely and invidiously goes beyond this. The question, in effect, is the following : if the infrastructu.re in a certain way (in the materials of thought and experiena=) determines the superstructure, but if such determination is not reducible to simple reflection, bow is it then-entirdy apart from any question about the o riginating cause-to be characterized? ru its expression. The supcrstruaure is the expression of the infrastructure. The economic conditio ns under which society exists are expressed in the su perstru~preciscly as, with the sleeper. an overfull stomach finds not its reflection but its expression in the contents of dreams. which, from a causal point of view, it may be said to "condition." The collective, from the first, expresses the conditions of its life. These find their expression in the dream and their interpretation in the awakening. [K.2,5] Jugendstil-a first attempt to reckon Mth the open air. It finds a distinctive embodiment, for example, in the drawings of Simpliciuimlls, which clearly show how. in order to get a little air, one must become satirical. From another perspective, Jugendstil could blossom in the art:ificial light and isolatio n in which advertising presC!llts its objects. 1bis binh of plein air from the spirit of the interior is the sensuous expression of the siruation of Jugendscil from the viewpoint of the philosophy of history: Jugendstil is the dream that one. has come awake. ~See S4a, l . ~ 0 Advertising 0 [K2.6] Just as technology is always revealing naruce from a new perspective, so also, as it inlpinges o n human beings, it constantly makes for variations in thdr most
primordial passions, fears, and images of longing. In dlis work I mean to wrest from primal history (Urgt:.J,hicntn a portion of the nineteenth century. The alluring and threatening face of primal history is clearly manifest to us in tile beginnings of technology, in the living arrangements of the nineteenth century; it has not yet shown itself in what lies neatc:r to us in rime. But it is also m ore intense in technology (on account of the latter's narural origin) than in o ther domains. lbat is the reason old photographs-but not old drawings-have a ghostly effect_ {K2a.l ]
On Wiertz's picture 'ThoughtJ and VuionJ 'If a &un"t:d Head, and its explication. The first thing that snikes one about this magnetopathic experience is the grandiose sleight of hand which the consciousness executes in death. "\-Vhat a singular thing! The head is here under the scaffold, and it believes that it still exists above, forming part of the body and continuing to wait for the blow that will separate it from the trunk."' A Wiertz, OeullreJ IitttraireJ (Paris, 1870), p. 492. The same inspiration at work here in Wieru animates Bierce in his exo-aordinary shon story about the rebel who is hanged, and who experiences, at the moment of his death, the flight that frees him from the hangman.' {K,2a,2] Every current of fashi on or of world view derives its force from what is forgotten . • This downstream flow is o rdinarily so strong that only the grOllp can give itsdf up to it; the individual- the precursor-is liable to collapse in the face of such violence, as happened with Proust. In other words: what Proust, as an individuaJ, directly experienced in the phenomenon of remembrance, we have to expuience indirecdy (with regard to the nineteenth century) in studying "curttnt,tI \lfash_ ion,"' "tendency"-as punishment, if you will, for the sluggishness which keeps us from taking it up ourselves.'
[K2a,3]
Fashion, like architecture, inheres in the darkness of the lived moment, bclongt' to the dream consciousness of the collective. The latter awakes, for example, in advertising. [K2a.,4] "Very interesting .. . huw lhe fascis tiza lilJlI of 81'iJ'llce had to IIlkr Ilrocisely thme elements in Freud which still Item frtlm tbe enlightened . materialistic pe riod Q r thc buurgeoiJl.ie ...• (II J ling• .. . the III1COIISciOIlJl. ... is 11 0 longcr jJllovidual- that is,
oot ao. acllwrell condition in the single .. . humall Lcillg. hut a stock uf primal IlIlllla nit y r enewing it ~ df ill the Ilre-'lt'lIt ; it is 1I0t repreSSion hut fruitful ,·elnru ." Ernst Rloeh . ErlMclwft (!ie,cr Zeit (Zurich , 1935) , II. 25., .8 [K2a.5]
Historical index of childhood according to Marx. In his derivation of the nornUlbve character of Greek art (as an art springing from the childhood of the human race), Marx says: "Doesn't the child in every epoch represent the character of the period in its natural veracit}'?'''' Cited in Max Raphacl, Proudhon, M arx, Pi(two (Paris, 1933), p. 175. [K2a.6]
More than a hundred years before it was fully manifest, the colossal acceleration of the tempo o f living was heralded in the tempo of production. And, indeed, in the foml of the tn.'l.chine. "The. number of implements that he himself [that is, the hwnan being] can use simultaneously is limited by the. number ofhis own natural instruments of production, by the number ofhis bodily organs . ... The jenny, on the other hand, even at itS very binh, spun with twelve to eighteen spindles, and the stocking loom knits with many thousands of needles at once. The number of tools that a machine can bring into play simultaneously is, from the vuy first, emancipated from the organic limits that hedge in the tools o f a handicraftsman." Karl Marx, Das Kapilal, vol. 1 (Hamburg, 1922), p. 33Z,9The tempo of machine operation effects changes in the economic tempo. "'In this country, the main thing is to reap a huge. fortune with as little delay as possible . It used to be that the fortune resulting from a conunercia1 house begun by the grandfather was scarcely run through by the time the grandson died. 'lbings don't happen that way any more; people want to enjoy without waiting, without having to be patient." Louis Rainier Lanfranchi, Voyag~ Ii Paris, au &quum des hommes d des chases dtln.s edte caPI~ale (Paris, 1830), p. 110. [Kl,l] Simultaneity, the basis of the new style o f living, likewise comes from mechanical production: "Each detail machine supplies raw material to the machine next in order; and since they arc all working at the same time, the product is always going through the various stages of its fabrication, and is also constantly in a Stale of tranSition from one phase to another. . .. The coUective machine, now an organized system of various kinds of single machines, and of groups of single machines, becomes more and more perfect, the more the process as a whole becomes a continuous o ne-that is, the less the raw material is interrupted in its passage from its first phase to its last; in other words, the more its passage from one phase to another is effected not by the hand of man but by the machinery itself. In manufacture the isolation of each detail process is a condition imposed by the nature of division of labor, but in the fully developed factory the continuicy of those processes is, on the co ntrary. imperative." Karl Marx, Das Kapi/aI, vol. 1 (H amburg, 1922), p. 344." [K3,2]
rUm : unfolding
a
[K3,3] A small piece o f materialist analysis, more valuable than most of what exists in this field : "V\e love thesc hard, solid blocks of material which Haubert raises and lets fall with the intermittent thud of a steam shovel. For if, as 1 found recounted in some book or otller. sailors at sea used to catch die glow of Flaubert's lamp as he wo rked through the night, and take their bearings from it, as if from a Iight~ house beam, so too it might be said that when he 'unloaded' a good round phrase, it had the regular rhytlun of one of those machines used in excavating.
Happy a« they who can feel the beat of this obsessive rhythm." Marcel Proust', Chroniques (Paris, 1927), p. 204 ("A Propos du 'style' de Haubert") . Ll1 (K3,4]
In his chapter on the fetish character of the commodity, Marx has shown how ambiguous the economic world of capitalism seems. It is an ambiguity consider. ably heightened by the intensification of capital management-as we see cxonp1ified quite clearly in the machines which aggravate exploitation rather than alleviate the human lot. Isn't there implicit here a general connection to the equivocalness of the phenomena \o\-'C are dealing with in the nineteenth cen tury? The significance of intoxicatio n fo r perception, of fiction for thinking, such as was ncvcr before recognized? "One thing has disappeared in the gmeral upheaval, and it was a great loss for an : the naive and therefore dependable accord of life and appearance" -sowe read, charna eristically, inJulius Meyer's Geschich/e (in modmtenfiamiisu("~ Malmi Mil 1789 (Leipzig, 1867), p. 31 . {Kl,5]
On the political significance of film. Socialism would never have entered the world if its proponents had sought only to excite the enthusiasm of the working classes for a better order of things. What made for the power and authority of the movement was that Marx understood how to intettSt the workers in a social order which would both benefit them and appear to them as just. It is exactly the same with art. At no point in time, no matter how u topian, will anyone win the masses over to a higher art; they can be won over only to one nearer to them. And the difficulty consists precisely in finding a form for an such that, with the best conscience in the world, one could hold that it iJ a higher art. lbis will never happen with most of what is propagated by the avant-garde of the bourgeoisie. Here, Berl's argument is perfectly correct: "The confusion over the word 'revolucion'-a word which, for a Leninist, signifies the acquisition of power by the proletariat, and which dsewhe« signifies the overturning of recognized spiritual values-is sufficiently attested by the Surrealists in their desire to establish Picasso as a revolutionary... . Picasso d eceives them. .. . A painter is not more ftvolutio nary for having 'revolutionized' pain ting than a tailor like Polret is for having 'revolutionized' fashio n, or than a doctor is for having 'revolutionized' medicine." Emmanuel Berl, "Premier pamphlet," Europe, 75 (1929), p. 401. The masses positively require from the work o f an (which, for them, has its place in the circle of consumer itelns) something that is warming. Heft the 8ame mOSt readily' kindled is that of hatred. Its heat, however; bums o r sears without provid· ing the "heart's case" which qualifies an for consumption. Kitsch, on the other hand, is nothing more tltan an with a 100 percent. absolute and instantaneous aVailability for consumption. Precisely within the consecrated fonns of expres· sian, therefore, kitsch and art stand irreconcilably opposed. But for developing, living fonns , what matters is that tlley have within lhem something stirring, useful, ultimately heartening-that they take " kitsch" dialcctically up into themselves, and hence bring themselves near to the masses while yet surmounting the kitsch. Today, perhaps, 6lm alo ne is equal to this task-or, at any rale, more n!ady for it than any other art fo rm. And whoever has recognized this will be inclined
to rusallow the pretentions o r abstract film, as important as its experiments may be. He will call ror a closed season on- a narural preserve ror-the son o rltitsch whose providential site is the cinema. Only film can detonate the explosive stuff which the nineteenth century has accum ulated in that strange and perhaps rormerly unknown material which is kitsch. But just as with the political structure or film , so also with o ther distinctively modem means o r expression (such as lighting or plastic design): abstraction can be dangerous. [K3a. l ]
1118 . .Revoilltillu a nd Wlllr, like II fever. are III:St ll ui leti to get il moving . . _ . Seeing thai the psyc hology of the ind.ividua l is now out moded , let 11 8 ca U upon a sur t uf nllillral history (of vulcullic rh yl.lull" and Muhlerr a nelln BtreamS. T he re is nothing 0 11 the su rface IIf Ule e arth th ut WB Ii 1101 once 8ubterranean (water. earth, lire). Nothing in the intellec t tha t hilS IIOt Leen di geBtetlluld circulated in the de pullI ." Dr. Pierre MIl Lille_ " PrHllce ii 1' £108e de, prejt18e$ popJ.liaire.," MinvtoJ.lre, 2. 110.6 (Winter 1935).1'. 2. [K4,2]
O ne can cl:tar.1cterize the problem of the form of the new an straight o n: When and how will the worlds of fonn which , without our assistance, have arisen, for c-umple, in mechanics, in 6Im, in machine construction. in the new physics, and which have subjugated us, make it clear for us what manner of nature they contain? When will we reach a state of society in which these fonus , or those arising &-om them, reveal themselves to us as natural forms ? Of course, this brings to light only one moment in the dialectical essence of technology. (Which moment, is hard to say: antithesis if not synthesis.) In any case, there lives in technology another inlpulse as weU: to bring about objectives strange to nature, along with means that att alien and inimical to nature- measures that emancipate themsclVC5 £rom nature and mas te r it. (l(3a,2]
"The r~elll pa ~ t a.lwa ys IIN'.sents itself as u lo ugh annihil illed by catasl rophes. " [K4,3] Wiesengrulld , in a le ttf' r
Un Gra nd ville: ';Oetween a n uninformed vis ion of the street! a nd a knowled ge of t he ucc ult de ri ved frum c urtoma llcy o r astrolugy, a kllowledge o pe nl y lurmented hy flora a nd fa una lind by a d rea m-humaoit y, he managetl to lead a huuntlltlts imugin ury Life within a fa hulou$ rl!allll of prima l poet ry . . .. Gra ndville wal perhapi Ule fanll tlraflJl ma li eve r 10 give the larval life of d rell.DlIL a rational plalltic fonn . Evitl!:'. nl b~ lI eal h Illli poiled a ppe ara nce, however. il that flebik neJcW " Itid" whic h Ilil>cOllcerts a nd provokes disqu ietude--so metimes t rouhlinA enough ." MaeOrlan. " Gra mlville Ie p recu rse ur." Arts et naerier, s raphiqne•• 44 (Decenlber 15. 1934). pp . 20-21. The essay presen18 (G r a nd ville ) III a forerunner (of Surrea.l.il!m, "articularl y uf ~ urreal ii1 (Mi lits , Wah Dis ney). {K4,1]
mm
Co nfrQnta tiQII between the " viscera l Wlconseious" and the " unconscioull of obliv· iun" -the first of whic h is predominantly indh'idua l, the IIt.-co nd IJretlominantly (·uller-tive; " The uthe r pari of t.he uncunscious is malle up uf the mass of thinse II'amed ill Ihe coune of the centu rieg and in the cOllrse of a life. Ihings which were '·' lIIscioUI o ncl' lind which , hy tliffusion , have eliu~red uh li viu n . ... Vasl su bmarille fUlld . ill which a ll cultures_ a ll s tudie!l_ a ll proceedillgs of mind IIIHI will . all sudal 1I111·j",illgll, all s tru~l t' 8 lire collt:Clcd in II formless mire, . . . The l'all8iolla l 1'1';lIIc llt>l of illliil'illua l;; hav t: ret)t:i1ell. dimmed , Alllhilt remain a re the givens of tile o:xh!rnal wurlll, mo re fir le;;s Irumfol"llIetl a nd diges ted . It ill of the t' xle rnal wodd th ll t thi ~ 1IIII"II118riu IIMill IlItltlt: ••. . Durn of so<:iallife _ this ImlUlIlI 1)('llIng8 10 ~Ucil' ti l!~. The s ped !.!11 olUl UIO' illdiv;,Jual CUUJlt fo r little in it : o w )" 1.lttl rlll!t' Ba lltl the uge II'aw' tllcir lI ulI·k . Thi ~ {:ll urmUll ii la bo r lIod("rl a kclI in the ShOlJllw8 I·UIIICH lu ligh t illlh·O!ums . I.holl"hl ~. d Ci· i ~ illlui, pml liho ve a ll at mOlnell18 I)f cr illi, o r Olf 80ctal 1I1,11I;:lIvlIl : il f/lrms I.he greul "olmlloli grouluL tile reserve of peo plc! a nd indivitiu-
Ap ropos of H en ry Bordeaux', reco Uectionli of his yo uth : '"In lIum , the nineteenth cent ury ra n its course wi thollt in the least a ppearing to announce the twentieth:' Andre TIle ri\'e. " let livres ,'- Le Temps (Juue 27. 1935). [K4,4] The embe ... blaze in your eye., And you Hallh like I mirror. Ha\'e you hoovctl . have you winp.
My blaek-Hanked 1000omoti vr.? See il ~ mane ripple, Ueten 10 titsl whinn y: itAgallol' ill a rumble Of a rtillery and Ihunder. Refrain : Feed yuur ho rse ill oat.! Saddled, bridled-whi! t1e and we' re uff! Ride At . gallop aeroN ,I.e briclge. under Ibe areb, Plow your way tbrour;h hill and ,Iale-Nu mount can ri val you.... Pierre-Du pont, " Le C hauffe ur de locomotive" (Pari.) ('"Pa8ilagedu Caire"), [K4a, l ] "Yesterday, looking down from t he tower of Not re Dame. I was able to take in t.hiJ! gigantic city. Who buill t he first h uuse. ami wheu will the last one eo Uapse? When will t he ground uf Paris loo k li k ~ tha t of T heLes
p. 127.
(K4a.2]
D' Eie hthal"lI a dditiulls tu D\I\"I!yric r '~ ,,11111 uf Ihe " new city." They have to do with the temple . Signili ulIlIl Ihut Ouve Yl"icr himself l ays, " My temple i:4 II woman! " Cuulller;; d -Eiciltha l: '·1 think Itliit Ihe templl' will co nlain the pa lace of ma n and tilt' pulace of WOlUllll ; t he man will go to l)a>l8 the flight with the woman , a nd the WOman will come 16 ...·o rk durin g I.IIC Ila y wilh Ihe man . BelwCt!1I tlte IwO pala ces will he tI;t: lelll ple pro per, the place tor cOlllllluui
isolation . . . . The temille ougl,t to re prellent an androgyne. a ma.n and a wo man . ... T he ~ a lm: method of llivision should be employed tbroughollt die city, throughout the realm , thn,ughout Ihe world : there will be the hemispllcro of mall and the hemisphere of wonlan ." Henry-Rene d ·Allelllagm:. U.1f Sa in /,-Simotlierl!f. 1827-1H37 (Paril, 1930), p . 3 10. {K4a.3] T he Paris of tlte Saint-Simonians. From the draft plan sent b y Charle Duveyrier to L 'A dvoctlt. with the expe1::lation of b a vin~ it incorpora ted into Le Livre de. cent-et-UII (which . evidentl y, it was not): "We wanted to gi\'c a human fnr m to the firs t city inl p ired by ollr faith .'" " The Lord , in his gooclne.s.s, hassJloken th rough the mouth of man : he sends .. , Paris! It is on the banks of your r iver and within your wa Ul Ihall I haU impress the liCal of my new ltount y.... Your kinga and yo ur l)(!Ople.s have Dlarl:hed wilh the slowness of ccntn riell, anil they have fin aUy a rrived at a nlagnifi cent place. It is there that the head of my city will repose . . . . The palacell of yo ur kinga will be ita hrow•. .. and J shall tend to itl beard of migh\'y cheltnut t.rees .... From tilt: tup of that head I will sweep away tbe old Christian temple . ... and in this clea ring I will arrange a headdreu uf tree~ ... . Ahove the breast of my city, in I.hal sympathetic foyer where the I)assionil all diverge and come together, wher e sorrows a nti joys vibrate, J will build my temllle, . .. sulwr plexlIl of the giant .... T he l1iUs of Roule and ChaiUot will form ils fl anks; there I will ealahli, h b ank and univer sity, marketplaces and publishing houses.... I will extend Ihe left a rm or the colossus along the ban k of Ihe Seine; it wiD run ... opposite ... Palsy. T he corps of enginCi'nI .. . will constitute the uPrler portion . which will streich towa rd Va ugira rd. and I will make the forearm from the wUOI.I of all the SIH!Ciali.ted sehoolll of ph Y8icaillcience .... In between , ... I will alsemble allthefl:ra mmar schools and high schools for my city to I)refll to itl brea8! , there on the left whfO re the uni ven ity i8 lodged . I will n tend the righl a rm of the giant , 118 a 8how offoree. all the wa y to the Care- de Saint-Ouen . . .. I will load this arm with workshllps of small industry, a rcadel . galleries. ha.tua rs .... I will fonn the r ight thigh a nd leg fro m aU the large manufacturing establishmenlil . T he riAht foot wiU touch NeuiU y. The left thigh wiIJ offer foreignenl a long row of hotels . The left leg will reach to the Boil! de Boulogne . ... My city is in the )l0l tu re of a lIIa n about to set off. His ft:et a re hron.te; they a re resting on a double road of slone aud iron. Here ... vehielee of tr am port a nd inslrumenlll of comnlunic&liun are ma lll.ra~ lurell; here ca rriagell race about . . . . Between its knees is a n I!quelltrian art:lla i helween its legs , a ll immense hippodr ome. "" Henry- Relle d'AIJemagllc , /-e8 Sain lSimonie,.,. 1827- 183 7 (Pa ris . 1930), )lp. 309-3 10. T he idt~ a for tltis prOI)Osul goes hack tu Enfantill , who ~l c vdopl:d plUIIII for the city III Ihe fulul·c willi the a ill I)f [K5] allalomil'ul e1la rts. Bul ' 111. lilt' Ori t lll 8 '"nm()n ~ yo·, " To go irri ga te iu de8u l.!I; HRille !.iSh int" th e ai r T he I
F. Mayn ard . " L'Avenir eat bea u:' in Foi nouvelle: Chunls e l dWrl-tll)'" de 8 l1 rn ullt, Vim.:nrd . .. , 1831 183" (Paris , J allt.llu y I , 1835). book J , p . 81. Regard ing the motif of the desl:rt. (IomplI. n : Rouge! de Lisle'll " Chanl des indllstrie.ls" a llli " le Desert" by FHicic.n David . [K5a, l]
a
Paris in the year 2855: " T he cit y is 75 miles ill cir cumfer ence. Versailles ILIId Fontainehleau- neighborhoods lost a rnon ~ 80 ma ny othcr ll--iientl into Ie 8 tra n_ quil borough s refres hing ~rfurues from tree!! th at are twent y centuries old . Se.vre!!, which has hei!ume the regular market for the Chinese. (Freneh citi.tenl lIince the wa r of 2850). dis play•... illl pagodas with their echoing little beUs; in itll mid!!t can still be found the factories of an earlier age, reconstructed in porcelai n a reine." Arsene Uouu aye, "t.e Paril fu tur:' in PlI ris et kif Porn ie ns a u X IX' ,ied e (Paris . 1856), p . 459. [K5a,2]
w
Chateauhriand on the Obe lisk de la Conoor de: "The hour will come when the obelisk of the desert will find once again , on Murderers' Square. the silence and 50litude of Luxor. " t~ Ciled ill Louis Bertra nd , "Discours sur Ch atea ubriand ." Le 1'emp, (September 18 . 1935). {K5a,3] Saint-Sinton once proposed " turning It mOIUitain in Switzerland into II Slatue of Na poleon. In one hand . it would h" id an occupied city; in the other, a lake." Counl C USlav " O il Schlabrendorf. in Paris, on event8 and persons of his day {in Carl C ustav J ochmann , Reliquum : Alt.! 8eine n nllchs eltlu enen Papieren , ed. Heinricb [K5a,4] Zschokke . vol. I (Hechingen , 1836). p . 146]. Noctu r nal Paris in L 'lIomme qui rit : " The little wanderer was suffering the indefin able depre88ioll lllade by a sleeping town . Its ailence, as of a p a ral ~ed an ..' nesl . maket; the head swim . AIJ its lethargics mingle their nightmares, illl siumbenl are a cr owd."" Cited in R . Caillois, "Paris . mythe modem e." Nou veUe RelJlle fr anl;ou e. 25 , no. 284 (1\1ay 1, 1937). 1)' 69 1. [K5a,5] " Bcca use the coUeetive unconscious is ... a deposit of world- processetl embedded in the u ructure of the brain and the 8ympat hetic Ilerv() us system, il c()nstitule&... a sort of timeless and eternlll "" orld-intage wfli ch counter balllllt:es our conscious. momentary pictu re uf lite w()rld." C. C. Jung, Sef! k nprobleme der Ges en wart (Zurich . Leipzig, anil Stuttgart. 1932). p . 326 ("Ana lyti!!che Psychologie lind Weltanschauung") . I~ {K6, IJ Jung calls the c(iIJSeiOUlIne8S--lln oClau ion !-"our Promethean ~;oll
"There can be no doubt that from ... the memorable yean of the F~nch Revolucon onward, man has givt:n a mo~ and mo~ prominent place to the psyche, his increasing attentiveness to it being the measUJ'e of its growing attraction for him. The enthronement of the Goddess of Reason in Notre Dame seems to have been a symbolic gesture of great significance to the ~tem world-rather like me hewing down of V\btan's oak by me Christian missionaries. For men, as at me Revolution, no avenging bolt from heaven struck the blasphemer down." C. G. Jung, &t/enprobl~ ckr Gtg~wart (ZUrich. Leipzig. and Snutgart, 1932). p. 419 ("Das Seelenproblem des modemen Men.schen").1111 The "vengeance" for th~ two historical points of depanure is being exacted today, it would seem, simultaneously. National Socialism takes the one affair in hand;Jung, the other. [K6,3)
As long as there is still one beggar around, there will still be myth.
stairwaYII in ....eU·urganized hou~ ... . On the fal,!lIdeur Ih~ b arrackll , It has-relief .. • depicted. in an ether eallLimbus . Puhlic Ortler drcued liS an infantryman: an a ureole ubo\'c hi.s liro .... he ...as bUilY laying low the hundred·headed l:I ydra of DocenlraLizution .... Fifty SCl1tinel, . posleil at lhe fifty wi ndo,,'s of the barracks opposile the fifty houlevan)s, were ahle to see, through field g1uslSes. at a distance of fifteen or t...enl y kilometeril . the fift y sentinel8 Ilt the fifty gates .... Crowning MQntmartre was a domc decoratcd with a giant d ectril! dock . which could be viewed from two 8itles and heard [ro m four. and which served to regulate all the duc ks in the city. The great goal 80 long sougbt bad finaJl y been ae bievetJ : that of making Pari, an object of luxury and curiosity. ruther than of use--a ville d 'erpo_ sition, a display city placed under glass, ... an ohj t.>t: t of admiration an ti envy to foreigners , unhear allie for its inbllbitunu ." V. ."ournel , pp . 235-237, 240- 241. [K6a,2]
[K6,4)-
" Moreover. all ingeniolls improvement had been introouced into the.COll.8trIlCtiOD of "'Illaret. The administration bought them prefa bricated . made to order. Tren of colored cardbOllrd and taffeta fluwers contributetJ greatly to these oase_. and cure had eVI:ll licen taken to cOllceal ill the leaves 80me artificial birds that sang tbe whole day 101lg. l 'llUs, what is pleasallt in nature had heen preserved . while every· thing unfit and unworth y in nature had been eliminated." Victor Fourncl. Pan. nouveau et Paris fUlur (Paris, 1868), I). 252 (" Paris fu tur"). [K.6,5) '"The workll of M. Haunmann gave ri Be. at leut in the heginning, to a bost of rather IItruug!! or gra ndiose projects .... For example, the a rchitect M. Herard Ilublished . in 1855, a proposal for building footbrid ges at tbe intersection of the Boulevard Saint· Denill and the Boulevard de sebastopol: these footbridgel, incor· por ating gaUeril!ll. would make for a continuous SIIUllnl. each side of which would he defm ed liy the angle fonned attht' cn~s~ingoftb e two ho ule\·a rdJl. l'tt. J. Brame. in 1856, exhibited a series of Lithographs detailing his phm for a metropolitan railway Line--in Paris, spedflcally-with a system of an:: hes ~ upportin g the raill, widl walkways U II the side for petleillriuns. and with elevated croll8oven 10 connect these sidewalks .. . . At around the same time, in a " lA:tter to the loUniHter of Conlmerce," a lawyer called fur the e8tabllihment of a series of a wning.s rU{1oing the len~h of til!! 8treets to shelter the IHldestrian , ... wbo would hllve nu further need of a ca rriage or umbrella. Not 10llg after tbis. an arllhited . . . propo!;f'{! to reconstruct the entire historic city rl'nler ill Gothic lityle, ilO a .. to bring it into ha rmollY ....ith Notrc Dam!!." Victor FOil rnel, [Juris rtO llllfW l1 et Pam fliLur (Paris, 18(8), pp. 384-386 . [K6a,l] From Fuorllcr ll challter " Paris fUlur ": " There \'\'r re first-. second·. and thirddan .·afes .. . . ulul , for each calt'gor y. the munbt'r of rooms. tables. billiard ta· hies. mirroN. orlluml"..nl;; . anti giJditlgll was carefully regulated . . . . Tllcre ....ere mus ter 6 tr~'eU nn.l l>Crvice ;;1I't-tts, just a~ there are lIIus ter stairway. a nd fen ·iee
Crititlue h y Fournel of Ch . DUlleyrier', Saint·Simunian city: "We cannol continue with the exposition of lhis rash mt!la pbor ofM . Duveyrier 's . which he develol" ... with a trul y stupefying single-mindedneu, and without an y sense or the way in which h is ingenious distrihution ,,"ould r eturn the city uf Paris, in the nunlc of progress. 10 thul period of the Middle Ages wben cal:h brunch of industry or trade was confined 10 its own qIUJrtier.·· Victor Fournel. Pa ris nouveau et Puru fumr (Puris , 1868). pp. 374-375 ("Le8 PreeUrlleUr6 de M. lJuuI8mano" ). [K7, 1] " Wes baU 'peak of a monument e pecially dear to our hea rt , one which haa come to seem. with II climate such 8S OUni . a virtual necessity: ... the winter garden! . • , Near Ihe center of the city. u vast piece uf ground callable of holding. Like the Colosseum in Rome, a large part or the population , would I... enclosed hy a great Lighted vault , a little like the Crystal Palace in Landon. or like our market haUs of today; the columns would he of cast iron , with only II hit of lIone to 6tren~ben the fo undatiou., .. . . 0, my winter gartlen . wbat u ~ I would make of yo u for mY' Novutopiall8! In the grea t city of Paris, by contrast , they have bui.lt a heavy, dumsy, ugly monument of stOlle , which no one knows whal to do with. Here, in recent mOllths, tht' painting! of our artists have-bccn displayetl , fa cing away from the light . baking al onl y a HLightly greater relll(lVe from the h1az..ing sun ." F. A. COllturil'r tie Vienne , Pam modem e: Plan d'une ville modele que t'(l)jtellr u up[K7,2J llelee sVovutopie (Pa ris. 1860). Pl' . 263- 265.
0 11 the Ilream h o u ~e: " ',n all southern counl.ntS, where the pnpulur conception of IllI' strect rt'
Couldn't one: compare the: social diffe:rentiacion present in architc:ctun:. (5« Fournel's description of c,lfes in K6a.2; or front stairs versus back stairs) with the: social djffe:renciation a1 work in fashion? [K7a, l j On amhropologica1 nihilism, compare NSa,I : CClinc, Bcnn.
[K7a,2)
"The fIft eenth century ... wall Q time wht'll corpses, skulls and ~ keletun s wer e extn,,'a!;lllltly I)QPular, Puinted , 8clllplell . written about IlUd dramaticllUy represented , the Danse Macabr e was everywhere. To the fifteenlh.cenlury artist , a good deatll.appeal Wall as slIrt! a key tu popularity as a good sex·llllpeal is at the present time." Al.lous HUllley, Croisiere ,l'hiller:
[K8,11 ~ For instance, we experience the death o f
a near relacive ... and believe that we
fed our grief in all its dcpm .. " but o ur grief reveals its depths only l ongafter~'e t.hink that we have gol the bener of ie" The "forgotten" grief persists and gains ground : COlllp~ the death of [jle grandmother in Prowt. 1'0 aperieuce means 10 master an impression inwardly that was so strong we could nOI grasp it at once." TIus definicion of experience in Freud 's sense is something very different
from what is meant by those who speak o f having "had an aperiencc?' Thcodor Reik, Der iibm-aschtt Rych% ge (Lc:iden, 1935), p. 131.2• [K8,2)
What is laid aside in me: unconscious as content of memory. Proust speaks of the "thoroughly alive and creative slccp of the unconscious .. . in which the things that bardy toUell us succeed in carving an impression, in which our hands take hold of the key tJlat rums the lock, the key for which we have sought in vain," Marcel Proust, La Prison"i"t (Paris. 1923), vol. 2, p. 189.2) [K8,3] The classic passage on "involwnary memory" in Proust- pn:.iude to the mOment ill which the effect of the madeleine on the narrator is described : "And so it was that. for a long time afterward, when I lay awake at night and revived old memories of Combray, I saw no more o f it than this sort o f luminous pando , , . I must own that I could have assured any questioner that Combray did include other scenes. , .. But since the facts which I sbould then have n:.caIIed wou1d have been prompted only by the voluntary memory, the intellectual memory, and since the informacion which that kind of memory gives us about the past preserves no thing of the past itself, I should never have had any wish to pondu over this residue of Combray... . And so it is with our own past. It is a labor in vain to attempt to recapture it : all the efforts of o ur intellect must prove futile. The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach., of intellect, in some material object , .. which we do not suspect. And as for that object, it depends on chance whether we come upon it or not before we ourselves must die." M arcd Proust, D u COli tk chn Swann, vol. 1, pp. 67-69,2111 (K8a,IJ
The classic passage on awakening at night in a dark room and the ensuing orientatio n : """When I awoke like this, and my mind struggled in an unsuccessful attempt to discover where I was, everything would be moving round me through the darkness: things, places, years. My body, still tOO heavy with sleep to move, would make an e:ffort to construe the fonn which its tiredness took as an orienta· tion of its various members, so as to deduce from that where the waJJ lay and the furniture stood. to piece together and to give a name to the house in which it IllUSt be living. Its memory, the composite memory o f its ribs, knees, and shoulder'blades, offered it a whole series of rooms in which it had at one time: or another slept. while the unseen walls kept changing) adapting themselves to the shape of each slIccessive room that it remembered, whirling madly through the darkness, And even befon:. my brain ... had collected sufficient inlpressions , ' . 10 identify the room, it, m y body, would recall from each room in succession what the bed was like. where the doors were, how d aylight came in at the windows. whether there was a passage o utside, what 1 had in my mind when I wcm lO sleep. and had found there when I awoke." Marcel Proust, Du COli dt rha. Swami, vol. 1, p. 15 .11' [K8a,21 Proust o n nights of d eep sleep after great exh auscion : "Good nights. , . rum so cITectivc:1y the soil and break through the surface stone of o ur body thai we
discover there, where our muscles dive down and throw out their twisted roots and breathe the air o f the new life, the garden in which as a child we used to play. There is no need ro travd in order to see it a gain: we must d ig dO\vn inwardly to discover it. W'hat once covered the earth is no longer upon it but beneath: a mere excursion d ocs not suffice for a visit to the dead city-excavation is necessary also." These words run counter to the injunction to revisit the sites of one's childhood. And they lose not a whit of their sense when taken as a critique of the mfflwirt! lJ(}/Ollta;re. Marcel Proust Le Giti de GJurma ntes (Paris, 1920), vol. 1, p. 82.~~ [K9,1}
Linking of Pl'Oust's oeuvre to the work of Baudelaire: "One o f the masterpieces of Frendl literarure- Syhric, by Gerard d e Nerval- like the MimQim d'outre/Qmbe (of Chaleaubriand) ... , contains a sensation of the same dlaracter as the savor of the madeleine .... And finally, in Baudelaire, these reminiscences art.sti1l more frequent and obviously less incidental and therefore, in my opinion, decisive. H ere it is the poet himself who, with lUore variety and more indolence, purposely seeks in the odor of a woman's hair or her breast, for example., inspiring resemblances which shall evoke for him 'the canopy of overarching sky' and la harbor filled with masts and sails: I was going to endeavor to recall the poems of Baudelaire which are based in similar maImer on a transferred sensation, in o rder d efinitely to place myself again in line with such a noble literary heritage and reassure myself that the work I was now about to Wldertake without any further hesitation was worth the effort I was going to devote to it. when I reached the foot of the stairs ... and suddenly found myself ... in the midst of a fete.." Marcel Proust, Lt 'femps rell'Q uui (Paris <1927» , vol. 2, pp. 82-83.:11> [K9,2]
" Mun i ~ himself. ill man , (lnl y at the surface, Lift the skin . dissed : be re hegin the machines. It ill then yo u lose yo urself ill un inexplicable s \lb ~ ta n ce, somdhing alien . til everything YOII know, antI which i~ lI
Dream city of Na poleQIl r: " Napoleon. wlu, Ilrigilla lly had "'anted hI eret:t tbe Are de Triompbe somewh('re insitIt: dill cit y. like the IJi ~ app()inlillg Ilu t effort made at Ihe Place dn CarouslleI , le t himself be pers uutletl hy Funlaillc to s tur! con!>lruclioD west of the cit y, where a large Irm;! of land was nl his IJispulS8 l, (III all impel'inl Paris tlmt wuuld I\ urpass tlte r
L [Dream House, Museum, Spa]
1ne genteel variant of the dream house. The entrance to the panorama of Gropius is described as follows: "One enters a room decorated in the style o f Herculaneum; at its center the passerby is drawn for a moment to a basin inlaid with shells, in which a small fountain is plashing. Straight ahead, a little flight of stairs leads to a cheerful reading room where some volumes are.displayed-notably, a collection of books designed to acquaint foreigners with the royal mlidence," Erich Stenger, Daguerw DiQt'ama in Berlin (Berlin, 1925), pp, 24-25. Bulwer<-Lyttom's novel. When did the excavations begin? Foyers o f casinos, and the like, bdong to this degant variant of the dream house. Why a fountain in a covered space is conducive to daydreaming has yet to be explained. But in order to gauge the shudder of dread and exaltation that might have come over the idle visitor who stepped across this threshold, it must be remembered that the discovery of Pompeii and Herculaneum had taken piace a generation earlier, and that the memory of the lava-d eath o f these twO cities was covertly but all the more intimately conjoined with the memory of the gmt Revolution. For when the sudden upheaval bad put all end to the style of the ancien regime, what was here being exhumed was hastily adopted as the style of a glorious republic; and palm fronds, acanthus leaves, and meanders came to replace the rococo paintings and (hinoueri~s o f the p revious century. 0 Antiquity 0 [Lt ,l ] " SutiJellly, howeyer, they want to tranilform the Frellch, with one wave of a magic \\, ulUl , into a peo ple of classical antiquity ; anJ on this whim of dreamers isolated in t!id,· privalt: libraries (the gmlde~s Minerva nOlwithHtanding), numerous artilStic t lldf'llYO r s ha ve tlepemled ." Friedric h J ohann Lon:llz Meyer , Fragme flte aus Pa ri$ jill IV"" Jallr der j rtlnzo$iscilen Reptwlic (Hamhurg, 1797), yol. 1. p . 146.
J ~~~ D
~~
Dream houses of the collective: arcades, Y,rinter gardens, panoramas, factories , wax. museums, casinos, railroad Stations. [Ll ,3] TIle Care Saint-Lazare: a puffing, wheezing princess with the stan" of a clock. "For QUI' type of mall," says J acques de LacreteUe, "crain stations are truly faetories of dreruns" ("Le Rc!veur parisien," XOll l.Jf!lIe Rnlllt:.fransaut:.,> 1927). To be sure:
LOCiay. in the: age: of the automobile and airplane, it is only faint, atavistic terrors which scilJ lurk within the blackened sheds; and that stale comedy of farewell and reunion, carri«l. on befoK: a background of Pullman cars, tums dIe rnil\Ola}' platfoml intO a provincial sta~. Once again \\'C see perfonned the timel'."Om Gr«:k melodrama : Orphew, Eurydice, and Hermes at the station. Through the mountains of lugga~ surrounding the figurt: of the nymph, looms the steep and rocky path, the crypt intO which she sinks when the Hermaic conductor with the signal disk, watching for the moist eye of Orpheus, gives the sign fo r departure. Scar of departure, which zigzags, like the crack on a Greek vase, across the painted bodies of the gods. [Ll ,4] The domestic interior moves outside. It is as though the bourgeois wen: so sure of his prospc:riry that he is careless of fa!?de, and can c:xdaim: My house, no matter where you choose to CUt intO it. is fa!?de. Such fat;ades, especially, on the Berlin howes daring back to the middle of the previous century: an alcove does not jut out, but-as niche-tucks in. The street becomes room and the room becomes street. The passerby who stops to look at the: house stands, as it were, in the alcove. 0 Fl.meur D [LI ,S]
011
th ~ dream hOllse. The arcade as I ~mp le : the habitue of those " obscure
ba· zaan" of the oourgeuis arca(l~s "wiU fmd himself aimosl on foreign ground in the Pa sla g~ de rOpera. Ile will be profoundly ill al ease tht'.J'e; he will be anxiow to leave. Anolher moment and he will discover himself R mallter. as if be bad penetrated the temple of God. " I.e Lillre des cellt-eI·UII , vol. 10 (Pam, 1833), p. 71 (Amedee Kcrmd . "'Les Passages de Paris"). [Ll ,6] Apropos or the colored wimlowJlllnes which were beginning to he UlstuUed in &tairways (autl these .flair! were orten waxed! ) Alphonse Karr writes: " The Kttlin:ase h ilS remained something that look" more like a machine of war ror defendillg one', hlluse against enemies Ihan a means of ~:omruuni clltioll allil 8tHlell8 offered to frientis." Alphonse Karr, 300 pnges, new edition (Paris, 1861 ), "" . 198-199. [L1 .n Thf' bouse has always shown ilklf " bardy receptive 10 new rormulations." Sigrried Ciedioll. Baaell in Prankreich
Arcades arc houses or passages having no outside-like the dream.
[LIa,l j
Museums unquestionably belong to the dn:aro hOllses of the collective. 10 can· sidering them, one would want to emphasize the dialectic by which they come uno contact, on the one hand. with scienci.6.c researcll and. on the other hand, with "the drt:amy tide of bad taste." "Nearly every epoch would appear, by virtue of its ilmer d isposition, to be chieOy engaged in wlfo lding a specific architectural problem: for the Gothic age, this is the cathedrals ; for the Baroque, the palace:; and for the early nineteenth century, with its regressive tendc:ncy to allow itself to
be saturated with the past: the museum." Sigfricd Ciedioll, BauQI in Fran.lr.Tt!ieil, p. 36. This thirst for the past fonus something like the principal object of my analysis-in light of which the inside of the museum appears as an intcrior magnified on a giant scale. In the years 1850-1890, exhibitions take the place of museums. Comparison between the ideological bases oCthe tl'.'O. [Ll a,2) "TIIt' niut'lI.'Clith ('clllury provided aU lIew rrelltioll8, in every area or elldeavor, with hil'lIJril'ililll; masks. Thill was no less true in the field of arc hitecture than in the field IIr illdtl ~ lry or 8bt:it: ty. New possiiJilitieR of COlIst.ruction were being intro"ut~cd. bUI "eoplt, f,·" IIllIIo.!!1 fear at the ad" cnt of thesc fl ew possibilities aud 1)(.'i·tllt'I\~ l y Imri~ ·~ltbclII ill thcatrical d ~coratioll . The ellOrmoll.'1 collective ap para_ IU S of imlu-"Iry W II~ ht'ing put ill place. hut its ~ignifica ll ce WBiJ altered entirely by the fac t Ihllt Ihe bClldlts of Ihe production procr.ss wl~ re a Uowed 10 accrue to onJy • ~ m a ll number. This historicizing mll6k is indi8~ olubl y botUld 10 the ima«e of the nillf'lec::u th CcuIUT)', and is 110110 be gainsaid ." Sigfried Giedion , Bauen in Frallk~ reich . liP. 1-2. ILla,3]
Lc Corbusier's work .seems to .stand at dle temunw of the mythological figura . tion "hollse." Compare the following: "Why should the house be made as light and airy as possible? Because only in that way can a fatal and hert:ditary monu' memaliry be brought to an end. As long as the play of burden and support, whether acruaUy o r symbolically exaggerated (Baroque), got its meaning from the supporting walls, heaviness was jwtified. BUI today-with the unburdened exterior wall- the ornamentally accenruated counterpoint of pillar and load is a painful farce (American skyscrapers)." Giedion, Sauro ill Franlreidl, p. 85, [Lt. .•) Le Corbusier's "contemporary city'" is yet another settlement along a highway. Only the fact that now its precincts arc traveled over by autos, and that airplanes now land in its midst, changes everything. An effort must be made to secure a foothold here from which to cast a productive glance, a fo rm·and-distance--creating glance, on the nineteenth ceutury. ILl a.S] - 1'111' condominium is
"If'
last incarnation (If the ba conial m8.lIor. It o,,"'Cj ils existt'lwe azul ils form 10 t hl~ Lrutal egoistic clllllpetitiun of intiividuallandowueu for Ihe r i{;hts to It: rrilMY lillli . ill the struggle for existence, wali Leing broken up and p:trc·dt.'il
:1'111' IIIUS~'UIII .t" ,In'o m hOllsl'. L' \\'e 11 0\'1' seen hn w the Jj'JUrLollll alreatl y Ihuuglll it IlIIl'urt;lIIt Iha l I lit' UIIf'I'S It) rll o'If tI'('ir house 1)1: g1orifit'~ I I" .. llhlll the .. arlier Ilisiory \,If Frllllce . in aU ils ~ pll'",lur aflu lIip-lilil·llllL;e. he re" o'Igllizcd once aguill. Hence,
Ihey ai lio arranged 10 have ()ublanding momenlS from French history and Frenc h cuhural evoltlliol) d~ pi e l ed 011 the cdJin~ of the u..uvre." Julius Meyer. Cesch;c/l' /! cler nwdernenfranzijsl$chell Mufe rei (Leipzig, 1867). p. '~2IJ . [Lla.7J
InJune of 1837-"to the everlasting glory of France"-the historic museum of Versailles was opened. A suite of rooms that one needs almOSt two hours merely to traverse. Battles and scenes of parliament. Among the painters: Gosse, Lariviere, Heim, Devrna, Gerard, Ary Scheffer, and others. Here. then, the collecting of pictures turnS into : the painting of pictures for the museum. [1..2,IJ Interlacing of mUS/lum and domeiltic inlerior. lot. Chahrillat ( 1882 , director of the A.rnbigu theater) one day inherits a complete waxworks mUl;eum , "set up in the Passage de (lOpera , right above the clock. " (Perhllpil it was the old Bartko£( Museum .) Chahrillat is friend s with Ii. certain bo/lemien, a gifted draftsman . who at the time is homeless. This man has an idea. Among the waxworkll in ~s !DU· seum is one group representing the visit of Empress Eugenic to chole ra patients in Anucus. At the right, the empress snliles on the patie nts; to the left is a Sister of Charity in white cornet ; a nd lying on an irun cot , pale and emacia ted bentloth the fine c1elln h('IJdothes, is a dying man , The museum closes al midnight. The drafta· IIIl1n opines: Nothing simple r than to remove, with due care. the cholera patient, loy him on the floor. and take his place in the bed . Chabrillal gives bis permiu ioD ; the wax figures mean little 10 him . t'or the nexl six weeks, then , Ihe artist, having just been th rown out of his hotel, spends the night in the bed of the cholera victim, and each morning he awakens under the gend e glance of the sieknurse and the smiling glonl:e of the empress. who lets her blond hair fall on him. From Jules Claretie. u., Vie Paris , 1882 (Paris <1883» . pp, 301(f. [L2,2)
a
"How much I admire those men who decide to be shut up at night in a museum in order to examine at their own discretion, at an illicit time, some portrait of a woman they illuminate by a dark lantem. Inevitably, afterward, they mu.st kn~ much more about such a woman than ....-e do." Andre Breton, Ntuya (Paris <1928)), p. ISO? But why? Because, in the medium of this image, the transformation of the muscum into an interior has taken place. [L2,3] The dream house of the arcades is encountered again in the church. Encroach· ment of the architectural style of the arcades on sacred architecture. Conceming Notre Dame de Lorette: "The interior of this building is without doubt in excd· lent taste, only it is not the interior of a (nuren. The splendid ceiling would suitably adorn the most brilliant ballroom in the world; the graceful lamps of bronze, with their frosted glass globes in different colors, look as though .th~y came from the city's most elegant cafes." S. F. Lahrs
strllcting priV'IIC resil":ntial dwellings all a round !h., pe r inu:te r, 80 that thelle the a. lers CIIII hurdly hel;om'l nnything other thnn 1;01088111 containe rs. giant capsules for:a ll 60rtll "e things." Grenzboren . 1861 , 21111 ~emeste r, vol. 3, ". 143 (" Die Pari~er Kumtall ~s teUull g vlln 1861"). (L2,5)
TIunk of the arcade as watering place. What we wouJd like is to stumble upon an arcade myth, with. a legendary source ~t. its center-an asphalt Vt'Cllspring arising at the heart of Pans. The tavern advemsmg beer "on tapn srill draws on this myth of t.he waters. And the extent to which healing is a n"t~ tk pa.uag~, a transition c.xpericnce, becomes vividly clear in those classicaJ corridors where the sick and ailing tum into their recovery, as it were. Those halls, too, are arcades.! Compare fountains in the vestibule. [L2.6] The dread of doors that won't close is something everyone knows from dreams. Stated more precisely : these are doors that appear dosed without being so. It was with heightened senses that I learned of this phenomenon in a dream in which, while I was in the company o f a friend , a ghost appeared to me in the window of the ground floor of a house to our right. And as we walked on, the ghOSt accompanied us from inside aU the houses. It passed through all the walls and always remained at the same height with us. I saw this, though I was blind. The path we, travel through arca~es is fundamentally JUSt such a ghosl walk, on which doors gIVe way and walls Yield. [L2,7] The figure of wax is propcrly the setting wherein the appearance (&hnTl) of humanity outdoes itself. In the wax figure, that is, the surface area, complexion, and coloration of the hUDlan being are aU rendered with such perfect and unsurpassable exactitudc that this reproduction of human appearance itself is outdone, and now the maImcquin incarnates nothing but the hideous, cunning mediation bct'o'.-ecn costume and viscera. Fasruon 0 [L2a,l)
o
Dcsl:riptiun of a wax mUl;el.lnl as dream hUl.lse: "Once visitors reached the final landin g, the y looked around Ihe I:I)rner intt) a large. brightly lit room. There was, su 10 say. no une within , thollgll it was filled with prim!es, c rinolines. uniforms. anti giants at the l~ntrance. The woman wenl 110 fnrlller, and her escort paused beside hcr. pi1lued by Ii baleful pleasure. ThGy lIal down on the s tep!!, ami he told her of tile It' rrf)j- he had ('Xperiellf'w as a lu)y ill reading ahout ill-fam ed castle" where 00 l 'll!' livl'll 1111)" longer. hut where 011 stormy night ... there were lights burning at all rhc windows. What was going un inside? Whal gathering was the re? Where. was Ih;'.1 light ~'()lIIillg from ? lie IHlll drl;umed of ,. alc.hillg a glimp~c or tlUIi assemhly willi \·· IIIlDging . f ' . rUIlil t Ie wlnduw lellge, ins fa et: prc~se ol agains t the winJowl.anes of th., \l1I~fJellkable nlum:' Ernti l Bloch , " LciL und Wnchsligur:' Frankfurter Zeit Illig . [L2a,2)
"N. ulIlller
" As for the lIew lintl lUll yel fiJlis l u~d Ihealers . they appear to helong 10 110 particuIlIr slyle. The intentio n . evidently, i.1I III integrate prh'lIte in lo puhlie usell by GOII·
1.25: Ca~ lall '~ mazc. At firs t. wurld trll.ve!{"I·s autil!rtiSl1i s upposc thems: lvc~ transported irllO th .. rorest of colunUll! lhal ill the magnifiCt:lIt musque u£ C'lrtiova i~l SPllin. As ureh IIlIGCcco.Is ardl ill that edifice, one column crowds upon
tile nexi ill p~r~ p. :ctive. (lffering fabulou s viSla8 IIUtI unlhink aLly long avenues whidl fl O .. nc /'ould full ow to tile end . Then . s uddenl y. we behold an image that II.kes 11 8 illto the very heart of the famuu s Alhambrll of Gnlnada. We eee Ihe tapestr y pattern of the Al hambra , witll iu inscription ' Alia II is All ah ' (God is great). and already we are s tanding ill a garden . in the orange grove of thc Alham_ IJra . But before the visitor arrives at this courl ya l'd , lIe mugt pass through II series o[ labyri nthine di vagations." Catalogue of Cutan 's panoplicon" (from extr acts in theFrarlkf lirter ZfJitulI,g). [L2a,3J "The jj,uccess of the Romantic school gave rise, a rt/und 1825. to the market in modern paintings. Before that, art lovers W -;1I1 to the hOlll c~ of artis ts. SeUen of artists' pigmeut!l-Ciroux . S uisse . Binallt , Benillt.'-began to fun ction as midlU&mell . The fil'st rctail h OUSe was opened by Goupil in 1829."
10 set up . within the actual city o f Paris, Paris the dream city-as an aggregate of all the building plans, street layouts, park projects, and street·name systems that were n ever developed.
[L2a,6]
The arcade as temple of Aesculapius, medicinal spring. The course of a cure. (Arcades as resort spas in ravines-at Schuls·Tarasp, at Ragaz.) The gorge as landscape ideal in the nineteenth century. [1.3,IJ
less putrefictl naked hotuea, of hoth lIexes, will ijoon lose interellt in the sparse mis e-ell~"cime. 1 d o not exaggerate. These smutty scenes ar e enacted every day at the morgue; ()eorle laugh there, smoke there, and chatter loU/Uy," Edouard Fouca ud , Pnri..'l illvcnteur: Phy-,iologie de l'in(I!l$triefran~aise ( Puris, 1844). liP, 212213. (L3,3]
All eugraving from around l830. perhaps a little earlier, s how~ copyists at work in vario us eenatic postures. Caption : " Artistic lllspirulion ut the Museum. '1 Cabinet J es Eslampes. (L3.4] On the beginnings of the museum at Versailles: " M. de Montalivet was in a hurry 10 a(:lluire a quantit y of paintings . He wauted them everywhere, and , since tbe Challlhers had tlecried prodigality, he was determined to buy t: heaply. The trend wall toward thrift ... M. d ~ Montativet willingly ... let it be thought that it was he hi mself who, on tbe qua ys and in the dealers' s hops, WllS buyulg up third-ra te canvases .... 'No , .. . il W illi the reigning princes of art who were indulging in this hideous businellS , .. The copies aud pastiches in the museum at Versailles are the mos t grievous confinllatio n of the r a pacity of those master artists, who became t ulre prene urs and harterer s of art ... . Business and industry decided to eleva Ie themselve8 to the level of the artist. The latter, in order to satisfy his need for the luxuries which were beginning to tempt him . prostituted ar t to slJeCulation and brought a bout the degeneration of the artistic tradition by his calculated reduction of II rt to the proportions of a trade." Tluslast refers to the fa ct that [ around 1837] painters were passing ou to their students commissions they had accepted themseh·es. Ga briel P elin, Le, Laideurs du beau Pari" (Paris. 1861), pp . 85, 87-90. [L3.S) On suhterranean Paris--old sewers. " We shall form a n image more closely resembling this strange geometric plan by sup posing that we see spread upon a background of darkness some grotesque alphahe t of the Eas t jumLled as in a medley, tile ij,hapcless letters of which are joined to one another, apparently pell-mell and 011 if h y chance. sometimell hy tbcir corners , sometimes by their extrem.ities," Victor [Iugo. Oeuvres completes, novels, vol. 9 (Paris, 1881), pp. 158-159 ( LeI Mi."~ rllblesp I1.3a,IJ
Juc4ue" F'ahien , Pu ris eu sOllge ( Paris, 1863). rl!ports 011 tin- moving of .the Porte Saint-Martin anti the Porte Saint-Denis: " ThI.'Y lire no 11~!;s admire!l on the ij umuu ts of the F'u u.lJOUI·gs Suint-Martin alltl Saint -Denis" (p. 861. In this way, thf' areas around the gates, wludl had stlllk 'Inite noticeably, we re. a hle to reguin their ol'iginallevel. !L3,2]
St'wers: " All manllt'r of phantoms hawit these long solitary corridor s, putridity au.1 mias ma. ever ywhere; he.re and there a breathing-hole through which Villon witlun ChalS wiul Rahelais without ." Victor Hugo, Oeu vres completes, novels, vol. 9 ( Parill, 1881). p. 160 (Les Mi..'lerllbles).b IL3a.2]
Proposal tCJ CI)\'I:r till: dead bodie! ill the IllCJ r guc' wilh a ll oilcloth f"o/ll Ihe neck ,low II . "T hl~ public lines up altlll" dour ami i ~ a.il nweJ tv eXamine at illl ld1l ure thl': /lillie e a d al'(~r$ of th e unknown Ilea. I ... 011(' Ilay, mora lily ....iU lie. givt'll il ~ due; and thcl'eurter the w"I'ker who II .., W "VCS 01 IUllchtime 1,0 visil tilt· morgul~III!.Iul ll in pockets , pipe ill nloutl,. smik un lip~ill order to crack jokcs OVl.'r the InOIT.. or
Vietor lIugo 0 11 the ohstacles wlul:h hindered Parisia n diggi.n g anti tunneling 0 1-'i:l'atioIlS: " Paris is built upon II. de posil "i.ngulllrl y re bellious 10 the spade. to the h~.. {(~ the drill , to human control. NOlhiug more .liffi(: uh to piert:e and to peneIral\: Ihan th ut gt'ologicul formatioll upon which is ~ upcrl'olled the wOllderful his· tl)rieru formation called Pa ris; 8S ~ OOIi as ... labo r COllllllellces ami venlures into
that sheet of aUu vium , subterranean resistance abounds. There are liquid claya, living springs, hard rocks, those aoft deep mlrea which tcclmical science calls mOl/lnrile •. The pick ud vanoos luooriously into these calcareous strata alternuting with seams of very fine clay and laminar schisto, e bed s. encrusted with oysler d lells conteml)Ora ry wilh the p re-Adamile oceans." Victor Hugo, Oeu vr es com_ pletes, novels, vol. 9 (Pa ris, 188 1), 1'". 178- 179 (Les Mis erables).1 [1.3a,3) Sewer : " Parn ... called it the Stink-Hole .... The Stink-Hole was 11 0 les8 revolting to hygiene than to legclld. The Goblin Monk h ad appear ed under the fetid arch of the Mouffetard sewer ; the corplles of the MarmOU8CIJI had heen thrown into the sewer of tbe Harillerie .... T he mouth of the 8ewer of the Rue de la Mortellerie was famOll8 for the pestilence which came from it .... Brune8cau had made a beginning, but it req uired the choler a epidemica 10 determine the vast reco nstruction whicb ba8 since laken place." Victor Hugo, OCI/vres completes. nO\·el8, vol. 9 (Pari8. 188 1), pp . 166, 180 (Les Miserobles, " L' IRlestin d e I..kvia tha n" ). I [1.3a~ 4) 1805--Bruneseau's descent into the sewers: " H ardly had Brulleseau (l'R ssed the fi rs t bra nchings of the subterra nean network, when eight out of the twenty laboren refu8ed to go further.... They advanced witb difficult y. It was nOI uncommon for tlae 8tepladde1'8 to plunge into th ree feel of mire. The lantern. flickered in the nUa8m a8. From time to time, a sewerman who h ad fainted Was ca rried out. At certain places, a p recipice. The 80il had . unk, the pa\'ernent hud crumbled , the sewer had chan,;:ed inlo a blind weU; they found no solid ground. One man suddenly disllppeared; tbey hlld grellt tlifficuh y in recove ring him . On the advice of Fourcro y. they lighted fro m po int to point, in the places , "fflciently purified , great cage!! full of oakum saturated with resin, The wall , in places, wa. covered with shupeleu fuugi--one would have said with tumo rs. The stoue itself seemed diseased in this unhreathable atmollphere, ... They thought they recognized here Hlld there, emeRy under the PaJai. de Justice, some cell, of ancient dungeons buill in the sewer itself.... An iron coUtU hung in one of these cells. They walled them all up .... The complete . urvey of the underground sewer system of Parn occupied seven years, from 1805 10 1812 .. .. Nothing equaled the hor ror of this old voiding cr Yllt, . . . Cllvern, v-a ve. gulf piCl"ced with streets, titanic nlOlehill, in which til e mind seems 10 see prowling th rough the shadow ... that cnonnous blind mole , the »1181." Victor Hugo . Oe u vres completes, novels, vol. 9 (Paris, 1881 ), lip . 169- 171, 173-174 (Les Miserflbles. " L' lntestill de I..kvialhllll" ). ¥ [tA,I)
In connection with the passage from Gerst1i.cker. 1o An undersea jeweler's shop: "~ came into the underwater hall of the jeweler's. Never would one have believed it possible to be so far removed fro m terra finna. An immense dome . .. overspread the entire marketplace, which was fill ed with the brilliant glow of electricity and the happy bustle of crowds, and an assortDlelll of shops with glittering display windows." Uo C larecie, Paro tUpuu $tS origintJ jU$qu 'tn I'an 3000 (Paris, 1886), p. 337 ("En 1987"). It is significant that this ima~ resurfaces JUSt when the beginning of the end has arrived for the arcades. [1..4 ,2]
l lle sewers of Paris, 1861- 1862. Photo by Nadar. Counesy of the Bibliotheque Nationale de France. See U ,I.
Proudhon takes a keen interest in the paintings of Courbet and, with the help of vague definitions (of "ethics in action "), enlists them in his cause. [lA ,3) V\befully .inadequate references to mineral springs in Koch, who writes of the poems dedicated by Goethe to Maria Ludovica at Karlsbad : "The cssenciaJ thing for him in these 'Karbbad poems' is nOl the geology but ... the thought and the SCo:sation that healing energies emanate fro m the otherwise unapproachable per-
son o f the princess. The intimacy of life at the spa creates a fdlow feeling ... with the noble lady. Thus, . . . in the presence of the mystery of the. springs, h~th coma ... from the proximity of the princess~ Richard Koch, Da Zauber der Hdlqudkn (Stuttgart, 1933), p. 2 1. IlA,",)
.
Whereas a jauntey ordinarily gives the bourgeois the illusion of slipping the ties that bind him to his social class, the watering place fortifi es his consciousness of be10nging to the upper class. It does this not only by bringing him into contact with feuda1 strata. Momand draws attention to a morc: elementary circumstance: "In Paris there art no doubt larger crowds, but nonc 50 homogmeous as this one; for most of the sad human beings who make up thoS(: crowds will have eaten either badly or hardly at all.. .. But at Baden, nothing of the sort: evayone is happy, seeing that everyone's at Baden." Felix Mornand, La Vae de; eaux (Paris, 1855), pp. 256-257. [lA.,I)
The meditative stroU through the pump room proves advantageous to business, chicHy through the agency of art. The contemplati~ attitude that schools itself on the work of art is slowly transformed into an attitude more covetous of the wares on display. "Having taken a rum before the Tn"nkhallt, .. . or beneath the frescoed peristyle of this Greco-Gennan·ltalianate colonnade, one will come in· doors, ... read the newspapers for a while, price the art objects. examine the watercolors, and drink a small glassful." Rlix Momand, fA V"U' deJ ttnJ)C (Paris,
1855). pp. 257- 258.
[lA.,2)
Dungeons of Ch atelet (sce also C5a , h : " Those ceUiI, the nlere thought of which 8lri.kcs terror into the hearts of the people, ... have. leut their sWnes to the one theater ahove. aU where people love 10 go (or a good time. since there they hear of the und yi ng glory of their &ons on the field s of LattJe." Edoll ard Fournier, Cllroniqllel el iegende31 del mes ck Pam (Paris. ISM). pp. 155-156. The reference is lo Ihe Thea tre du Chald et , originally a circW! . [Ua,3] 'fhe rcvised title page of Meryo n's EUllx-/orles s ur I'n ris ( Etchings of PariS) liepicts a weighty stonc whose age is aUeiled to by the cncru Nted Nhells and the cracks. The till,: of the cycle is engr a,·ed in this slone. " Ourty remarks tha t the m elli . a llli tlu~ imprint of moss prest' rved in the limegtont'. indicate clearl y that this Sftm e W ll@ eh o~ n from among the 8pecimellil of allcient Parisian ~ oil in the II Uarric~ flf Montmortre." Cust.ove Ceffro y, Charles Meryon (Puns. 1926), I) . 47. (Ua ,4) In " Le J out! ur gCIl!! reult," Ulludelaire nl~ls with Satoll in his infernal gamblillg deli. " a dauling 5uLterra nean Ilwelling of a fabulous luxur y IIl'yolIIl a uything t1u~ IIlllJer haiJilatitills tlf Pari;; could offer." Chules 8aUllclaire . Le S,' ~n tie Pllris, etl. H. Simon (Paris). p . 49." (U a,5]
The gate bdongs in a context .....i.tJl the n"le; de jJaJStlge. W However it may be indicaled , a ile enters the way- whet11cr it be b etween two sticks driven into the
ground and sometimes set leaning toward each othu, or through a me trunk split in the middle and opened up, ... or under a birch limb bent into an a.rdl.... In these cases, it is always a matter of csc::aping a hostile ... element, getting clear of some stain, separating off contagion or the spirits of the dead, who cannot follow through the narrow opening." Ferdinand Noack, Tn"umph und 'triumphhogen, series cntitled Vortrii~ der Bibliothek Warburg. vol. 5 (Leipzig, 1928), p. 153. Whoever enters an arcade passes tJlTOUgh the gate·way in the opposite dirtction. '~ (Or rathu, he ventures into the intrauterine world.) [LS, 1J Aeeording to K. !\Idster, Die HllUuch ll1elle in S,Jrucl,e Ilnd Religion der Romer. Proceedings or tilt' Heidelb crg Academy of Sciences, Division of P lliiollopby and History, 1924- 1925. Trelltise 3 (Heidelberg, 1925), thl! threshold dOl!s 1I0t have for thc C rL"eks, or imieed for any other people. the importance. il has for the Romani. T he treatise is conCf'rned essentia lly with the genesis of the , ublimis UII the exalted (LS,2] (origi nally what is carried aloft). ·'Nevertheleu . we Bee a continuous stream of new work8 in which the cit y is the main c:haracter, present th roughout . and in which the name of Paris almost always figures in the titJe, indicating Ihat dill- publil: likel things this way. Under these condjtions. h ow could ther e not develop in each reader the deep-seated conviction (""hich i8 evident even today) that the Pans he knows i. not the only Paris, not even the truc ouc, that it is only a sta~ set , brilliantly illuminated but too normo£-a pi ~ of sceuery which the stage bands will never do away with , and whicb conceals anodu:r Parill. the real Paris, a noctu ma l, spe<:tral . impe rceptible Paris." Roger Cailloil, " Paris, mylhe moderne," Nouvelle Revue from;ai,e, 25 , no . 2M (May I , 1937), p . 687. [1.5,3] " Cities. like furestl; , have tbeir dens in which aU their vilest and nmst terrible monslers hide." Victor Hugo. Lei Miserables. part :3
There arc relations between department store and museum, and here the bazaar provides a link. The amassing of artWorks in the mweum brings them intO communication with commodities, which-where they offer themselves en masse to the passerbr-awake in him the notion that some pan of this should fall m ~ _~
~~
··The ci ty of the dead , Pere Lachnise ... The word ' 1'l:metery' callnot proper ly he clsed for this purlinll ar layoul , whicb ill modeled on the necropolises of the andellt ","uri I!. This ,·cntaLle urhall cstahlillhmellt-wi th its i tone houses (or the d ead and it! prufusiOIl of sta tues , which , in contrast to I.h.; custom of tbe Chnlltiall north , rt!present Ult! Ileall a$ li ving- ia cOlweivcol throug.hout a~ a continua tion ur the d ty of U1C living. ,. (Till! name comcs from the o ..... ner of the la nd . the father confe88or of Louis XIV; the plllll i ~ by NIlPIlIcon I. ) Fritz Stahl. Pari.6 (OerUn <1 929». JlI) . 16 1162 . [L5a]
M [The Flaneur] A landscape haunts, intense: as opium. - Ma1Iarmf.! ~ ~Autrd0i5, en \Uarg~ d\m &r.udcla.irc,w in Dioog"h~)
To read what was never written. _ Hofmanruthai L
And 1 travd in order to get to know my gCOb'Taph)', -A madman, in Mared ~a., I:Arl dw. kJ.foliJ (P'aris, 1907). p. 13 1
All that can be fOWld aJlY'yhcre can be found in Paris. - VICtor Hugo, Us j.filirahlu, in Hugu. Otuvm romp{(lr.J (ParU, 188\ ), novels. vol. 7. p. 30. rrom the clJaptcr ~&(:<: Paris, Ecce Homo"l
.,. '\rf- { ;
')1
"f
~\
But the great reminiscences, the historical shudder-theK are a ttumpery which he (die 8aneur) leaves to tourists, who think thereby to gain access LO the genius loci with a military password . Our friend may well keep silent. At the approach of his footsteps, the place has roused; speechlessly, mindlessly, its mere intimate nearness gives him hints and instructions. He stands before: Notre Dame de Lorene. and his soles remember: here is the spot when: in former times the cheval de rrnforl-the spare horse-was hamessed to the omnibus that clim~d the Rue des Martyrs toward Mommart:re. Often, he would have givt:n all he knows about the domicile of Balzac or of Gavami, about the site of a surprise attack or even of a barric.'l.de. to be able to catch the scent of a threshold or to recognize: a paving stone by touch, like any watchdog. [MI ,I] The street conducts the BMeur into a vanished time. For him, every street is precipitous. It leads downward- if not to the mythical Mothers, then into ~ east that can be a.I1 the morc spcllbil.!5:!iDg because it is nat his a.....,.l, not pnva!e. Neverth eless, it always remains the time af a childhood. But why that of the life he has lived? In the asphalt over which he passes, his steps awaken a surprising resommcc. The gaslight that streams down on the paving stones throws an equivoca1light all tlm double ground. [1\1 1.2}
An intoxicacon comes over the man who walks long and aimlessly through the streets. With each step, the walk takes 0 11 ~ater momentum; ever weaker grow the temptacons of shops, of bistros, of smiling women, ever more irresiscble the magnetism of the next street comer, of a distant mass of foliage, of a street name. lnen comes hunger, Our man wants nothing to do l'Iith the myriad possibilities offered to sale his appetite. Like an ascetic animal, he flits through unknown districts-until, utterly exhausted, he stum bles into his room, which receives him coldly and wean a strange air. [M 1.3]
Paris created the type of the Baneur. What is remarkable is that it wasn't Rome. And the reason? Does not dreaming itself take the high road in Rome? And isn't that city too full of temples, enclosed squares, naconal shrines, to be able to enter lout mhlre-with every cobblestone, every shop sign. every step, and evc::ry gateway-into the passerby's dream? The national character of the Italians may also have much to do with this. For it is not me foreigners but they themselves, the Parisians. who have made Paris the promised land of the Baneur-th? liiiaSCipe ~ built of sheer lifi ," 'iSH"ofmanmfhatOnCc. put it. LandScap:et, in fact, L!I w a t ~ Paris beCOiiies the Bineur. Or, more precisely: the city splits fQ.r him into Its rualectica1 j>OiE!:...!t opem up to him as a landscape, even as it closes around him as a room. [MIA]
for
111at anamnestic intoxication in which the Bineur goes about the city not only feeds on the sensory data taking shape before his eyes but often possesses itself of abstract knowledge-indeed, of dead facts-as something experienced and lived through. TIlls felt knowledge travels from one person to another, especially by ~rd of mouth. But in the course of the nineteenth century, it was also deposited m an immense literarurc:. Even before Le.feuve. wbo described Paris "strttt by street, house by house ~ there lvc:re numerous works that depicted this storied landscape as backdrop for the drcam.ing idler. The study of these books consti· tuted a second existence, already whol1y predisposed toward dreamingj and what the Baneur learned from them took form and figure during an afternoon v.
pletely distances himself from the type of the philosophical promcnader, and takes on the features of the werewolf restlessly roaming a social wilderness, was fixed for the first time and forever afterward by Poe in his slory "The Man of the Crowd." [M1.6) The appearances of superposition, of overlap, which come with hashish may be grasped through the concept of similitude. When we say that one face is similar to another, we mean that certain features of this second face appear to us in the first, without the lauer's ceasing to be what it has been. Neverthe1ess, the possibilities of entering into appearance in this way are not subject to any criterion and are therefore boundless. The category of similarity, which for the waking consciousness has only minimal relevance, attains unlimited relevance in the world of hashish. There, we may say, everything is face: each thing has the degree of bodily presence that allows it to be searched-as one searches a face-for such traits as appear. Under these conditions even a sentence (to say nothing of the single word) puts on a face , and this face resembles that of the sentence standing opposed to it. In this way every truth points manifestly to its opposite, and this state of affairs explains the existence of doubt. TrotlI becomes something living; it lives solely in the rhythm by which statement and COWlterstatement displace each other in order to think each other.3 [Mla,I) Valery Larbaud on the "moral climate of the Parisian street!' uRe1ations always begin with the fiction of equality, of Christian fraternity. In this crowd the inferior I is disguised as the superior, and the superior as the inferior-disguised morally, in both cases, In other capitals of the world, the disguise barely goes beyond the appearance, and people visibly insist on their differences, making an effort to retain them in the face of pagans and barbarians. H ere they efface them as much as they can. Hence the peculiar sweetness of the moral climate of Parisian streets, the chann which makes one pass over the vu1garity, the indolence, the monotony of the crowd, It is the grace of Paris, its virtue : charity. VIrtUOUS crowd . , ," Valery Larbaud, "Rues et visages de Paris: Pour l'a1bum de Chas-Laborde," Commm:e, 8 (Sununer 1926), pp. 36-37. Is it permissible to refer this phenomenon so confidently to Christian virtue, or is there not perhaps at work here an intoxicated assimilation, superposition, equalization that in the streets of this city proves to carry more weight than the will to social accreditation? One might adduce here the hashish experience "Dante Wld Pc:trarCa,''' and measure the impact of intoxicated experience on the proclamation of tlle rights of man, This all unfolds at a considerable remove from C hristianity. [M13,2) The "colportage phenomenon of space" is the Baneur's basic experience, Inasmuch as this phenomenon also-from another angle-shows itself in the midnineteenth-century interior, it may not be amiss to suppose that the heyday of Ranerie occur ill this same period, Thanks to this phenomenon, everything potentially taking place in this one single room is perceived simultaneously, The space
winks a t the Baneur: 'W hat do you think may have gone on here? Of course, it has yet to be explained how this phenomenon is associated with colportagt:.' oHistory 0 [M I a,3)
A true masquerade of space-tllat is what the British embassy's ball on May 17, 1839, must have been. "In addition to the glorious Rowers from gardens and greenhouses, 1,000-1 ,200 rosebushes were ordered as part of the decoration for the festivities. It was said that only 800 of them could fit in the rooms of the embassy, but that will give you an idea of the utterly mythological magnificence. lne garden, covered by a pavilion. was rumed into a Jalon de '()n~Jation , But what a salonl The gay Bower beds, full of blooms, were huge jardiniereJ which everyone came over to admire; the gravel on the walks was covered with fresh linen, out of consideration for all the white satin shoes: large sofas of lampas and of damask replaced the wrought-iron benches; and on a round table there were books and albums. It was a pleasure to take tlle air in this immense boudoir, where one could hear, like a magic chant, the sounds of the orchestra, and where one could see passing. like happy shadows, in the three surrounding Hower-lined galleries, both the fun -loving girls who came to dance and the more serious girls who came to sup." H. d'AJmeras, La ViI: paminJ1U! JOur (Ie ri:gne de) LouisPlu'llppe <Paris, 1925), pp, 446-447. The account derives from Madame de Girardin. 0 Interior 0 Today, the watchword is nOl entanglement but transpar. ency. (Le Corbusierl) [MIa,4) The principle of colportage illustration encroaching on great painting, "The repons on the engagements and battles which, in the catalogue, were supposed to illuminate the moments chosen by the painter for battle scenes, but which failed to achieve this goal, were usually augmented with citations of the works from which these reports were drawn, Thus, one would find at the end, frequently in parentheses : Co.mpa{57leJ d'Efpag;rze, by Marshal Suchet ; Bulleti'l de la Grande Armie eI rapports q/fideiJ; Gau lle de France, nwnber , . , ; and the like; Hu/oire de la ritJoiution jran(llUe, by M . Thiers, volume , .. , page ... ; Vic/oim d conquau , volume ... , page ... ; and so forth and so on." Ferdinand von Gall, Pam und Jei/le Sa/ons (Oldenburg, 1844). vol. 1, pp, 198-199. [M2, )] Category of illustrative seeing-hllldamemal for the Bineur. Like Kubin when he wrote Andere Seile, he composes his reverie as text to accompany the images, [M2.2J Hashish , One imitates cenail1 things one knows from paintings: prison, the Illidge of Sighs, stairs like the Ullin of a dress, [M2,3]
'v\k know that, in the COUfse of Ranerie, far--off times and places interpenetrate the I~dscape and the present moment. When the authentically intoxicated phase of this condition annOunces itself. the blood is pounding in the veins of the happy Bfmeur, his hemt ticks like a clock. an d inwardly as weU as oUlw ardly things go
on as we would imagine: them to do in one: of those: "mc:cha.nical pictures" which in die: nine:te:mth century (and of COUIX earlier, too) enjoyed great popularity, and which depicts in the foreground a shepherd playing on a pipe, by his side two children swaying in time to the music, further back a pair of hunters in pursuit of a lion, and very much in the background a train crossing avcr a trestle bridge. Chapuis and celis, Lt Montie deJ au/qmoJeJ (Paris, 1928), vol. 1. p. 330.' [M2,4]
properly sacred ground of Hillene. In iliis passage, 3t any rate, it would be present.e d M such for the first time since Baudelaire (whose work does not yet portray the arcades, tho ugh they were so numerous in his day). [M2a,1]
So the 8ftneur goes for a walk in his room: "WhenJohannes somctimes asked for pennission to go out. it was usually denied him. But o n occasion his father proposed, as a substitute, that they walk up and d own the room hand in hand.
The attitude of the 85..nwr---epitome of the political attitude of tllC middle classes during the Second Empire. [M2,5] With the steady incrtase in trnffic on the streets, it was only the macadamization of the roadways that made it possible in me end to have a conversatio n o n the terrace of a cafe without shouting in the o ther person's ear. (M2.6J
TIle laissez.·faire of the Bineur has its counterpan even in the revolutionary phiJosophemes of the period. "'~ smile at the chimerical pretensio n [of a Saint· Simon] to trace all physical and moral phenomena back to the law of universa1 attraction. But we forgel too easily that this pretensio n was nOl in itself isolated; under the influence of the revolutionizing narurallaws of mechanics, there couJd arise a current of natural philosophy wh.ich saw in the mechanism of nann-e the proof of just such a mechanism of social life and of events generally." <Will)') SpUhler, Dn- Sain/·SimOl1umw (ZUrich, 1926), p. 29. [M2,7J Dia1ectic. of 8inerie : on one side, the man who feels himself viewed by all and sundry as a true suspect and, on the o ther side, the man who is utterly Wldiscoverable, the hidden man. Presumably, it is this dialectic that is devdoped in "'The Man of the Crowd." [M2,8] " Theory of die transformation of th ~ city into coulltryside: thig WIUl ••• the main theme of my unfinished work on MaulJosSaDl. ... At isaue was the city as huuting . ground . a nd in general the concept of the hunter v1ll yed a major role (as in the theory of the uniform : aU hunters ItHlk alike)." 1..el1er from Wi~sengrund . June 5, 1935. [M2,9} TIle principle of 8!nerie in Proust: "'Then, quite apart from all those literary preoccupations, and without definite attachment to anything, suddenly a roof, a gleam of sunlight re8ected from a stone, the smell of a road would make me stop still, to enjoy the special pleasure that each of them gave me, and a1so because they appeared to be concealing, beneath what my eyes could see, something which they invited me to approach and take £rom them. but which. despite all my efforts, I never managed to discover." Du Gali de (hn. Swann <(Paris. 1939), vol. I, p. 256.)7- TIlis passage shows very clearly how the old Romantic sentiment for landscape dissolves and a new Ro mantic conception of landscape emerges-of landscape that seems, rather, to be a cityscape, if it is true that the city is m e
nus s~med at firs t a poor substitute, but in fact ... something quite novel
awaited him . The proposa1 was accepted, and it was left entircly toJohannes to decide where they should go. orr they went, then, right out the front entrance, out to a neighboring estate or to the seashore. or simply through the streets, exactly as J ohannes couJd have wished ; for his father managed everything. While they strolled in this way up and down the 800r of his room, his father told him of aJJ they saw. They greeted other pedestrians ; passing wagons made a din around them and drowned out his father's voice; the comfits in the pastry shop ",,-ere more inviting than ever." An early work by Kierkegaard, cited in Eduard Geismar. Siirro Kier/;.egaard (Gottingen, 1929), pp. 12- 13. H ere is the key to the schema of Voyage au/ollrtle ma dUlmbrt.' [M2a.2] "The manufacture.r passes over the aaphalt conscious of its quality; the old man 8earchu it carefull y. foUow. it just all loug as he can, bappily taps hill cane JlO the wood rc&onatei. and recalill with pride that he pe.raonaUy witnessed the laying of the lirat sidewalks; the lH>et ... walks on it pensive Bnd unconcerned , muttering Unet\ of verae; the stockbroker hurries pllllt , calculating the advantagell of the last rise in wheat ; and the mOllcll.p slidell acro88." Alexis Martin. " PhYliiologic de l' BII' phalte." Le Boheme. 1. no . 3. (April 15. 1855}-Charle8 Pratlier. editor in chief. [M2a,3]
On the Parisians' technique of inhabiting their streets: "'Retwning by the Rue Saint·Honore, we: met with an e10quent example of that Parisian sbttt industry which can make use of anything. Men were at work repairing the pavement and laying pipeline, and, as a resuJt, in the middle of the street there was an area which was blocked off but which was embanked and covered with stones. On this spot street vendors had immediatdy installed themselves, and five or six were selling writing implements and notebooks, cutlery, lampshades, ganer-s, embroidered coUars, and all sons of trinkets. Even a dea1er in secondhand goods had opened a branch office here and was displaying on the stones his bric-a·brac of o ld cups, plates, glasses, and so forth , so that business was profiting, instead of Suffering, from the brief disturbance. They are sinlply wizards at making a vmue of necessity:' Ado lf Stahr, .Nalh fibif Jahren (Oldenburg, 1857), vol. I , p.29.' Seventy years later, I had the same apcrience at the COITler of the Boulevard Sain~·Gennain and the Boulevard Raspail. Parisians make m e street an interior. [M3.1]
"It is wonderful that in Paris itself onc can actually wander through countryside." Karl Gutzkow, Briife au; Paris (Leipzig, 1842), vol. 1. p. 61 . The o ther side of the ~IOO: is thus touched on. For if 8a.ner1e can transfonu Paris into o ne grtat Ultenor- a h~ whose rooms are the quarJias, no less clearly demarcated by thresholds ~ are real ~ms-the.n, on the other hand . the city can appear to somcone walking through It to be Without thresholds : a landscape in the round. [M3,'[
But in ~e ~ ana1ysis, onl.Y the reYOlu~on ~tes an open space for the city. Fresh all" doctnne of revolunons. Revolullon disenchants the city. ConmlUne in L'EdUCtltifm ;rntimtnlale. lmage of the street in civil war. (M3,3J Street as domestic. interior. COllccl"Iling the Passage flu Pont ~Neuf (bdwecn the Hue GU!!n~galid and the Rue de Sf!ine): " the s hop ~ resemhle c10~et H." No ulJeaux '/flbleu/l.X de Puris. (m Ob!ervaliaru !IIlr les m<eurs et us ugel de, Porisielu all. commencement ti" ,YlX- siecle (1'ari8, 1828), vol. I, p. 3<1. [M3,",] Tile courtyard of the Tuilerie8; " immense IiD\'OnUah plAnted with JamppolO t.!l iD~ stead of hanalla tree!!." Paul-Erllest de Rattier, Parit! n 'exisre fHU (Paris, 1857). Gas 0 [M3,5J
sions, for balls and concerts, although, since its doors are open in summer too, it hardly deserves the name of wintt:r gardm." When the sphere of planning crt:. ates such entanglements of closed room and airy nature, thm it serves in this ,Yay to mee:t the deep human nee:d for daydreaming-a propensity that perhaps proves the O1.le efficacy of idleness in human affairs. Wblde:mar Scyffarth, I%hrntlllnungm i'l Paris 1853 und 1854 (Gotha, 1855), p. l30. (M3,IOJ
us
The mmu at Trois Freres Provenpux: "Thirty·six pages for food , four pages for drink-but ve:ry long pages, in small folio , with closely packed text and numCfOUS annotations in fine prine" The booklet is bound in velvet. Twenty hors d'ocuvrcs and thirty-three soups. "Forty-six beef dishes, among which arc: seven different beefste:aks and eight filets." "Thirty·four preparations of game:, forty-seven dishes of ve:getables, and se:venty-one varieties of compote." Julius Rodenberg, Pari.! hei Sonnetu,hein u'ld Lo.mpetllich' (Leipzig, 1867), pp. 43-44. R3nerie through the bill oHart:. (M3a,1] The best way, while dreaming, to catch the afternoon in the nct of evming i5 to make plans. The: Baneur in planning. [M3a,2]
a
;'Le CorllUsitl r 's houses depend on neither sJlatialnor plastic artic ulatioll : the air
Passage Colherl : '"The gas lamp illuminating it lookll likc a cOConul palm in Ihe middle o( a savamlll.h ." O Gas OLe Livre del cent~t~ltn (Parili, 1&33), vol. 10 , p. 57 (Amedee Kennel . " u s Passages ,Ie Paris"). [M3.6J
palses through them! Air becollies II constitutive factor! What matten, therefore, is neither s patiality lH!r lit: nor plasticity per !Ie but oilly relation lind ioterful ion , There is but one indivisihle s pace. The integumenlll separating inside from outside fall away. " Sigfried Giedion. Bouen in Frankreich
Lighting in the Passage Colbert: "1 admirt the regular series of those crystal globes, which give off a light both vivid and gentle. Couldn't the same be said of comets in battle formation, awaiting the signal for departure to go vagabonding Livre du ,enl·e/-un, vol . 10, p. 57. Compare this transformathrough space?" tion of the city into an astral world with Grandville's Un Autre Mtmde. Gas 0
u
o
[M3,7j
In 1839 it was considered elegant to take a tOlloise out walking. lbis gives us an idea of the tempo of fianerie in the arcades. [M3,8] GII S la\'t~ Claudin it! dllppost'd to have i aid ; " On the day .... Ili·n a r.Jet ('~ II .'1es III he a
r.JN and b et:omC 8 II ·chateauhriand. ' wht'11 II mullOD "tr w i.e called an ' Irish stew.' or when the waiter cries Ollt , ' Monitcur, clock!' to indicate that this IIc ...·sl'nIJl"r wall re(luest!:.1 hy the ('ustolller 8illjng under the clock-:'II thai ,lay. Pal"i s .... ill have IJt.<e n trul y det h rom:II!" Jules Clarctie. i..t, VieiJ Pari" 1896 (Paris. 1897), 1" 100. [M3,>[
"There-on the Avenue des Champs·E1ysecs-it has stood since 1845: the Jardin d 'Hiver, a colossal greenhouse with a great many rooms for social occa·
Streets are the: dwclling place of the collective. The collective: is an eternally unquiet, eternally agitated being that- in the space between the building froDtse:xperiences, Ie:ams, understands, and invents as much as individuals do within the privacy of thw own four walls, For this collective, glossy enameled shop signs are a wall decoration as good as, if not better than, an oil painting in the drawing room of a bourgeois ; walls with their "Post No Bills" are its writingdcsk, newspaper stands its libraries, mailboxes its bronze busts, benches its bedroom fumiturt: , and the cafe tt:rrace is the balcony from which it looks down on its household. The ~ction of railing where road workers hang thw jackets is the vC!tibule, and the gate:way which leads from the row of courtyards o ut into the open is the long corridor that daunlS the bourge:ois, being for the courtyards the cntry to the chambers of the city. Among these latter, the arcade was the drawing room. Mort: than anywhere else, the street rt:vea1s itself in the: arcade as the (M3a,4J funtished and familiar interior of the m asses. The intoxicated interpenetration of street and residence such as comes about in the: Paris of the nineteenth century- and especially in the: expcrie:nce of the a3ne~has prophetic value. For the new architecture lets this interpenetration become sober reality. Giedion on occasion drnw5 attention to this: "'A detail of
anonymo us engineering, a grade crossing, becomes an clement in the arclUtecture" (that is, of a villa). S. Giedion, Bauro in Fran/mi,"
we
" Mter an hour the ga thering broke up. a nd (or the 6rst time I fDWld !ltreets o( Paril nearl y deserted . On the houJevards I met only unacco mpanied IJersolU. and Dn the Rue Vivienne at Siock Market Squar e, where by da y you bave tu wind your way through the crDwd , there waIn ' ! a soul . J could hear nothing but nl y own step. and the mUnTIur orroontailll where by day you cannol escape tbe deafening bun. In the vicinity or the Palais Royal I encountered a patrol. The loldiers were advancing single file along bDth sides uf the s treel, clost: to the houses. at a distance oC fi ve or !lix pac,,! (rom one another 80 as not to he attacked at the ~a me time a nd 10 as lo be able to reuder mutual aid. This reminded me that , at the very beginning or my slay here, I bad been advised to proceed in this manlier myst'U al night when witll several Olhers, bUI , if I bad tD go home alone, always to take a cab ." Elluard De\Ticlll , Briefe tilts 1'1IriJl ( Be rlin , 1840), p. 248. (M4 .1] On tlif' omnilllllleS. " The driver Iltol'S and you mount Ihe few ste ps ur tlli' convenienl little 8tairclllle lind look aliout for a place in the car. where he lldll'8 extend lengtln"'isc 0 11 the right and the lefl. wilh ruom for up 10 sixleen I>cuplt'. You ' ve hardl y sel foot in the car when it s tar" rolling again. The t:o nductor h at once morc pulled tbe cord. antI , willi" quick movemenl thai callses a lidl 10 8(1u lul. he
udvanl:es die lIet'dle 011 a tr1l 1l~ Jl1Ire nl d.ial tu imlil:ll le tliat another pt:r8011 hll9 t·nten.'tI; by thi,. mean, Ihey kl~V Iruck qf l·ecC.ipl ~. Nqw that the car is moving, you rl'"ach calml)' int u YOllr wallet anti p"y the f"rc. If you huppell to be silting reaSonabl)' rar from tile co nductor, the mOlley Iravels Croll1 hand to hand umollg the paslIenge-rs : Ihe wt· lI -tl~N'iI'd lad y takes il fronl lire workingm an ill tilt." blue j ackel ond passe;! it 0 11 . This i8 all ltct:omplis ht'd easily, ill r outiJiti fashion , alill withoul II ny bOlhe-r. Wllell StlIllCOIlt' i ~ ttl exit.lhe comilielor agai n ptalls Ihe cord and brings the car 10 a bait . If it i! ~oi ll g uphill- which tn JJaris it orten is--alld therefDre ia goinK 1II0re slDwl y. lIIe n will r ll ~ I D lll a ri l y climb 0 11 and orf without the car', having to stop ." Eduard Ot'nienl. Briefe tllll I'aru (Berlin. 1&10), p. 61--62 . [M4,21
.. It WII S afler the Exhibition of 1867 llial onc br·gan to see tbost' velocipedes which , some year!> later, hafl a vDgue as widespread all it was short-Ji ved. We ma y recall thai under the Dirf!(',ury l!ertaiJI Incroyables il could be tleell ridillt; velociferes. which were bulky. badly elJllstructetl \'elncil'edel. 011 May 19. 1804. a play entitled VP.locifirc, was perCnrllll:cI at the Vaudl·ville; il contai ned a song with this verse: You. pllrli &an~ or the ACIIII" gll it . CU/ldum:n wl,o hllvil lost the ~ Jlur. Would yo n n llW IlCCd~rll te BeYllnd the pro mpt "clocircre? Le/lrn then how tv ~ult8tillile Dexterity ror 811«<:i.
By tile beginning of 1868. however, velocipedes were in cireulatiol1 . and soon the Jlublie walkways wert' everywht're rurrowed. Ve/oCll'men replaced boatmen . There ....ere gymnasill and arenas fur velucipedillu. ami cODlI>etitions were set up 10 challenge the Ikill of amall'ure.... Today the velocipede is 6uis hed and ror gDtten ." U. Gourdou de Genouillae, Pa m u lm lH!r, lu lIieckJl (Paris, 1882), vDI. 5, p . 288.
1M•.') The peculiar irresolution of the lIaneur. Just as waiting seems to be the proper state of the impassive thinker, doubt appears to be that of the flfrneur. An elegy b)' Schiller contains the phrase: "the hesitant wing of the buuc:rfly.'I12TIlls points to that association of wingedncss with the feeling of indecision which is so characteristic of hashish intoxication. (M4:t.I J
E. T. A. H offmann as type oflhc IUncur; ~ Des Vetters Eckfcl1ster" (My Cousin's Corner Window) is a testament to this. And thus Hoffmarm's great success in France, where there has been a special understanding for tills type. In the biographical notes to the 6vc-volume edition of his later writings (Brodhag?),'3 we read: ;'H offmann was never really a friend of tile great outdoors. "Vhat mattered to him more tllaJl aJl)'thing else was the human being-communication with, obseRVations about, the sinlplc sight of, hunlan beings. Whenever he went for a walk in summer, which in good weather happened every day toward evening,
then ... there was scarcely 3 tavern or pastry sho p where he would no t look in to see whether anyone-and, if so, who-might b e then=." [M4a.2J Menilmonta nl. " I.n thi8 immense quar,ier where meage r salaries doom WOlllf'.n and children to eternal privation , the Rue dt' la Chine alld those strt:el, which j ui n and cut across it , such as the Rue des Parlonls a nd that a mazing Rue Orli lB, 8U fa ntas~ tic with ill roundaboutl and its sudden turns, it! feRcel of uneven wood 8Iat", itl uninhabited summerhouses. itl d eserted ga rdcnJJ reclaimed b y lIalure where wild shrubs a nd weeds a re growing, sound a noteaf appeasement aud of rare calm . ... It is a cUllnlry path under an open sky where most of the people who pall!! i'eem to have eaten and drunk ." J .~ K. Huys mans. Croquu PurUien.t (Paris. 1886). p . 95 ("La Rue d e la Chinc"). [M4a,3] Dickens. " '" hill letters. he complains repeatedl y when traveling, even iii the mounlain. of Switzerland , . , . about the lack of . tn:e l noise, which was indi8 pen~ sable 10 him for his writing. ' I can ' t express how much I want the.e [ Itreets] ,' be wrote in 1846 from Lausan ne, where he was working un une of Ius ~a test novels, Dombey find Son . ' h seems as if they supplied something to my brain , which it canllot bea r, when IJUsy, to lose. For a week or a fortnight I can write I)rodigiousiy in a retired place, . , and n day in London sets me lip again and stn.rU me. But the toil a nd labor of writin!. d ay after da y. without tha t magic lantern. is im. ~ men,e ... , My figures seem disp08Cflto stagnate witlumt crowds about them. , . . In Genoa ... I had two miles of slreelll 811ea6t, lighted al night , to walk about in ; and a great tbeater to repai.r 10 , every nighl . "'11 < .~ram~ Mehrin g, ~ "Charles Dick· ens;' DUl neue Zeit , 30 , no. J (Stuttgart. 19 12), pp . 62 1--622. (M4a,4]
JlaYing slUlits thll t lire be ing bak~J 10 IJUVe ollr ponr boulev.LI rd , which ij looking 110 worn! .. . 1\5 if It roiling wa ~ II ' t nicer wlwII you walked 01 1 the lIoil . Ihe way YOll do in u gardell '" 1M Grcmde Ville: J\'olll1eflll 1"b1eau de }Juri! (Pari.s, 1844), vol, ] . p . 3:« ("I..e oitunll\'·). [M5.3) On lhe first Ollinilmses: "COmlH!titiun hal aLread y ellll:rged in the fu nn of ' Les Dallies Olandit'S.· ... Theile cars are poinled entirely in wllile. and the drivers, t1n:ssed ill ... white, ol}CI'atc 8 bellow wilh t.heir fOtl l that plays the tune from La D(lme Blanche: ' The lad y in ..... hile is looking a l yOIl ... '" Nadar , QlI.olld j'itai5 pllOtog rflplle (Par i" ( 190(h), pp. 30]-302 (" 1830 et environs"). [M5,4] Musset onl·e named the ;;t.'Ction of thc houlevards thaI lit.os hehind the Theatre des Varietes . and that is not much frClluCnled b y lliineurl , the Ea~ t Indies. <See Mllu. 3 . ~ (M5,5) The:: 8ane::ur is the:: observer of the:: ruarke::tplace. His knowledge. is akin to the:: occult science o r industrial 8uctuations. H e is 3 spy ror the:: capitalists, on assign· men t in the:: realm of consumers. [M5,6] The 81neur and the masses : here Baudelaire::'s " R~vc parisien" might prove very insttuctive. (M5,7] The idleness of the 8aneur is a demonstration against the division oflabar. [M5,S) Asphalt
Brief description of misery; probably under the bridges of the Seine. "A bohemian woma n Nleeps, her head tilted forwa rd, her emply pursl'" between her legll. Her blouse is covered with pinll Ihat glitter in the II UII , alllllhl': few a ppllrlenance8 of her househulll and to ileU ~two brushes. an 01)Cn knife. a closed tin- a.re so weU arranged thai thi!; semblance of orller creates a lmost an air uf intimacy, the shadow of an interieltr, aro und her." Marcel Jouhandea u , Imugu de Pari, (Paru
the eue for a whole series of sailor l ongs, which set"rna l to ha ve Iransfurnled the Pari&ians into mariner s and inspired them witll dreams of boating... , I.n "" ealthy Vr.niee where hlll"ury shines, I Where golden Jlorticoes glimllier in till! water. I Wlu:re palaces of gloriuulI marble reveal I Mas terworkj of art a mi trcasurell di ~ "ine, I I have only my gondola . I Sprightly as a hird I ThaI darts and Hies al i18 ea5e. I Skimming the surface of the waters:' H. Gourd un de Gtllouillac, I.e! He· Jrairu de in. rite. de 1830 ii 1870 (Pitrill. 1879). vp . 21 - 22. (M5.2) '·'Tellmc. wllat ill lhul awful ~ lcw which smells so bad Knll is warming ililha t jl:reat pOl?' l a ys a provinciul 1I0rl to an old porler. ;ThAI , my clear l ir. ill a ba tch of
W ill
firS! used for l itlewalk8.
[MS,' }
"'A town , lI11ch 8S Londoll , wllere a lIIao Dlay .....ander for hou rs together without reaching the beginning of the cud , without nleeting the slightest hillt which could lead to Ihe inference Iha l there is (1)1': 11 I:uunlry withill rcacb , is a strange thing. This colo.ual centralization , tlus heaping logether of 110-·0 and a half million. of human beillg& al one point . III" ~ multiplied the power of this two alld a half nlill.ioDs a hundredfold : ha ~ raised I..olldon to the l:ommerciaJ cu pitol of the world , created the giant docks and allselllhied till' dUlusalid vessell! Iha l continually cO\'cr the 'I'h ll meli . ... But the saeriliCe8 which all this has cuM ilt.~:()me apparent laler. After rnamin.g the streets of tilt: C81)ilal a lJay or two, ... uue realizes for tile first time tha t theSe Lnudollcn have l#eel! for ced to &acrifice Ihe bCSI 1llI lllitit!! of their lm ~ man nBlun: to bring 10 pUS8 1111 the lIIu rvch of civilization . • .. TIll' very turmoil uf th .. slreetl hU!!lIolllet hing repu!si\'c a lJHut it- iomethiTlg aga ill:ll ...·hiell hlllllan nalure re bels. The hundred s of thousa nds of a ll classes a llli ranks cro .....ding past each olher-aren 't the)' all hllman beillgt wilh the same qualities alld powers. and "" ith Ihe same inlerest ill IlCing happy? Alld aren ' l they obliged , in the cllIl , tl) seek hIIJlPIII . ~1I8 . III . tII tt S/tIllC Wil Y, l.y the lI un1+' IlIO!aIlS? t\nd ~ till Ihey ('rllwll 1Iy onc Il IlQther a~ though tlley hacllllJtlling ill ","mIll O Il . nuliling to do with one a llolher, li nd their only agreemen l i8 Ihe lacil (lne--t.hal each keel' IU his own ~ id e of the
Ilav(:1I1ellt , 1i0 as nol 10 .Iday Ihe o"posing ureams of the crow.l-while no man thinks to honor anuther wilh so much as a glance. Thfl brulal indifference, th II nfed ing isolation of each in his "ri" ale interest becomes Ihe more repellent and nffe ll8h 'e, the more thelle individuals a re cro....ded tugether wi tllin a limiled sJlace. Alld ho ....ever much one may be a ....are Ihal this illolation of the indh'idual, this na rro w self-seeking, is the fun.lamenta) I)rinciple of our lIociely everywhere. it ie nowhere so shamelC:6l1ly barcfa(led , 110 "elf-conscious, al just here in the crowding of the great city." Friedrich Engels, Ok Luge der Qrbeite"de" KI(lSIIe ill E"gland. 2ml ed. (Leipzig, 1848). pp. 36-31 (" Die grossen Stltdtc")!' [M5a,l ] " Dy ' hohemialls' I nlean tllat cia" of individuals £01' whom ...Jtistence is a problem, circumstances a myth , and ("rtune all enigma ; who have nu Snrl of fixed abode, DO Illace of refuge; wbo belong nowlillre and are met with evt'ryw here; who have no particular calling in life but follow fifty professions; wilO . for the mnat part , arise in the morning without knowing .... hel't' they an: to dine ill Ihe everullg; who are rich today, impoverilihed lomorrow; wbo are ready to live honestl)· if they can , and otherwise if they caollol ." Adolphe d 'Enoer y and Grange, Le. Bo'u!mielU de Paris
~ IL
~~
" When the fi rs t German railway line .... ae abo ut to he construcled in Bavaria, the medical fac ult y at Erlangen published an expert OIJinion ... : the rapid movement would cause ... cerebral disorders (the mere lIighl of a train rushing by could already do trus), aud it wali therefore necessary. a t the It:ast, to build a wooden barrier five feet high 0 11 both sillcs of the track. " Egon Friedell , Kulturge,chichte der New:eit (Munich , 1931). \ ' 0 1. 3 , p. 91. [M6.2] " Deginning around 1845 ... there were r aiJroads and 8tea mer& in all parlli of Europe, and the new meanli of IranSI)orl ....er e celebr ated .... Pictures, lette .... SlOries of travd ....ere Ihe preferred ~enre for authora alld readerl." Egon Friedell, KllflUrge,chichle der Neu:ei, (Munich , 1931), vol. 3 , p . 92. [M6,3] The following observation typifies the concerns of the age: "When one. is sailin~ on a river or lake one's body is without active m ovement .... The skin expenences no contraction . and its pores remain wide opc=n and capable of absorbing all the emanations and vapors o f the surrounding envirorunent. The blood ... remains ... concen trated in the cavities of the chest and abdomen. and reaches the exrn:mities with difficulty." J.·F. Danai, De /'ftiflunue des lK1)'a{p sur I'hommt t:I sur Se.f maltu1iu: Ouuragt: sp&.inlemenl tUJh·ni au ...: gr:ru Ju montle (Paris, 1846), p. 92 ("Des Promenades en bateau sur les lacs et les rivieres"). [M6,4]
Rema rkable (Ii, tinction bet....een ft aneur ami ruhhenu!ck (badaud); "Let u, not . ho ....eyer, confUle tht' Rane ur with the rubherneck ; then: ill n Nuhtlc .L{ference .... The average Ra.llt'ur ... ie always in fulll'ossc8Siull j,f his indi vidu ality. while thai of the rubberneck d i8appe.aTll , aLIiOrbetlilY t.h.· n l"rnul world , ... whid. moves him to the poinl of int Ollication and t:(:stusy. Un.ler I.he influence of the ' lH:c::tacie. Ihe rubberneck b..'Cometl nn impersonal heing. I-Ie is no 10llger a man- he is the public; he il the cro ....d . At a dilltallrc from nalure. his nail'e soul agio ...., ever iru:lim..'tl to r everie, . . . the true rubberlleck dellCrVe& the admiration of aU upright and ~il1cere l.ea rU." Victor Fournel. Ge flU 'on VIIi, (lall s u~, rue, de P(lru (PUrill. 1858), p . 263 C'L 'Od ys~(~ II ' UII lIaneur IlanMleN rue" de Paris") . [M6,S] '[be phantasmagoria o f the fuincur: to read from faces the profession, the ances· try, the character. IM6,6]
III 1851 1" there wile stiU a regular 5tagecoach line between Paris and Venice. ~' .7J
On. die colpor tage phellomelloll of &puce: "'The se n ~e of mys tery,' wrote OdiJon Redon . who had learued the secret from du Vind , ' comes from remainiug always ill tbe equivueal , wilh double and triple pe rHpecLives. or inklings of pef'lipe<:tive (imagetl within images}-forms that take &h apc and come illto heing according to the s t a t~ of mind of the spectator. All thi ngs more ellgge&tive just beeauae they do appear. , .. Ciled in Raymond E&cholier, ··Artiste ." Aru er nlli rierl graphiquel , No. 47 (J une I , 1935), p. 1. [M6a.1 ] The Ralleur al ni~ht. -Tomorrow. perhaps, ... nocta mbulillm will have had illl day. Bllt al least it will be lived to the fuU during tbe thirty or forty years it will la81. ... The individual can rest from time to tiUIf'; stoppillg places and waystation, are permitted him. But be does not have the right to sl ~ p. " Alfred Delvau . Les lIeure. pari. ienne. (Paris. 1866). Pl'. 200. 206 ("Dcux lIeures de matin").That nightlife wali significantly e1(telllled i ~ f:vitlCIiI already from the fa ct that , as DeJvau recolillts (p. 163). the Itorea ....ere dOl ing al tell o' clock. [M6a,2]
In the musical revue by Barre. Ratlet, uud I)esfontaines. M. DureUe!. O il Petite Revile des embeUiueme,., de Pa m (P aris . 1810). perfllrmetl at the T heatre de Va udeviUe 011 JUlie 9, 1810. Paris in the fll rm of a model constructed Ly M. Duretief haij migrated illto the Icellery. The choruH.Ieclares " how agrllcable it iii to have aU of Pari~ in OIl C 'S drawing r oom" (p . 20). Th.. plot re"oh'es a round Ii wagllr hl~ l wcclI t.lll' urchitccl Oure1ief aOlI tl.e painter F"rdinund ; if thc forlllt'r, ill his 1I1(lIlci of Parill . omitll a ny Hort uf "embdlishnll'nt," then his (laughter Victorine straightaway hdoJlgHto Ferdinand . whu ot hcr ....iSl· lIa8 10 wait Iwo yea rs for her. It t llrll s nut th ai Ourdid hus forgotten Her Majesty tl.e Empress Marie L.ouiije. " Ihe 1l\0~ t beautirul urllanw nt" of Park [M6a.3] The city is the realization of that ancient dream of humanity, the labyrinth. It is this reality to which the flaneur. without knowing it, devotes himself. Without
knowing it: yet nothing is wo re foolish than the conventional thesis whieh rationalizes his behavior, and which forms the uncontested basis of that volumino us literature that traces the figure and demeanor of the 8ftneur- tbe thcsis, namciy, that the flancur has made a study of the physiogno mic appearance of people in orde r to discover their nationality and social station, character and destiny, from a perusaJ of their gait, build, and play of features. The interest in concealing the true mo tivc:s of the Hftneur must have been pressing indeed to ha~ occasioned such a shabby thesis. [M6a,4} In M axime Du Camp's poem loU Voyageur," the flineur wears the costume of the traveler:
"I am afraid to stop-il's the engine of my life;
ReSarding Ihe legcnd oflhe lliineur: " With the uid of a word I overhear in pau ing, I reconstruct au entire coll versation , un entire exil tence. The in8ection of a voice suffices (or me to attach the name of II deudly sin to the man whom I have ju&t jostled and whose profile I glimpsed ." Victor Foumd , Ce qu'on voir cUJrI$ lea "ues cle Pa ris (Parill, 1858), p . 270 . [M7,8] In 1857 ther e wu still a cOiu:h tlepllrting from the Rue Payee-Saint-Andre al6 A. M . for Venice ; the trip touk six week,. See Fournel, Ce qu 'on voit dont lea roes de PU,.u (Parill). )). 273. [M7,9]
In o mnibuses, a dial that indicated the number of passengers. Why? As a control
Love galls me so; I do not wanl to !O\'C." kMove on then, on with your bitter aave1s! The sad road awaits you : meet your fate." Maximc Du C amp, u s Chants motkr'ms (Paris, 1855), p. 104.
DiderOI 'H " UIIW hcuutnu l the IItreet!" is a favorite phralle of the chronic.leu o( f1iill cr ic. ]M ',']
fOT the conductor who d istributed the tickets .
[M',! ]
Lithu~raJlh _ Cobmefl lJoing Bailie with Omnibw D,.illf!r!l. Cabinet dell EstampC/!.
]M','] All earl y all 1853 . Ihere are offi ciaJ IItatillticlI concerning vehicular traffic a l certain llan8ian n e rvecelll ~r&. " In 1853 , lhirty-<me omnibull iines were &erving Paris, and it ill worth noting Ihat , with a few e ~Cleptions , tbese lines were dell i~at ed by the same I~Ue r~ used for the autohull Lines operating at that time. ThUll it wall that the · Made.leiJle-Halltillc' lint' wall already Line E.... Paul d ' Ariste, u., " ie elle monM (/11 bouiell{lNi. 1830-1870 (Paris <1930» . p . 196. [M7,3) At conllet:ting IItationll for the omnibulJ, paIl6c n~r8 were caUed up in numerical order and h ad ttl answer wllt'n called if they wanted to Ilresen 'c tbeir nght to • eat . ( 1855) [M7,4] "The absinthe hour . . . date!! from the burgeoning . . . of the IImaU press. In eurlier timell, ",·hen there Wli S nothing but large serious newspapera . . . . there W~II 110 absinthe huur. This Ilell,.e de l 'absinthe is the logical con&equence of lhe Pansiall gOBsip COlunlII8 IIlId tahloids." Guhriel Guillemot, Le Boheme (PUnl , 1869), p. 72 (" PhYlliob'1l0mie8 !,urisicllnes·'). [M7,5]
Louis Lurine u Trd~ieme Ammdwnn.cll dt: Paris (Paris, 1850), is o ne of the most noteworthy t'estimonials to the distinctive physio gno my of the neighbo rhood. TIle book. has certain stylistic peculiarities. It personifies the qua,.tier. Fo~ulas like "The thirteenth amJTulwemrnl dcvol~ itself to a man's love o nly when It can furnish him with vices 10 love" (p. 2 16) arc not unusuaLL' (M7,6]
[M7, IO}
-' It is worth remarking ... Lhal Lhe umnihus 8eems to subdue and to Itill aU who approach it.. Thuse who make their living from travelers . . . can be r ecognized ordinarily by their coarse rowdine88 . . " , but omnibus employee5, virtually alone among transit workers. display no t.racn of such behavior. It seemll all though a fJalming, drowsy influence enlltllatell from thia heavy machine, like that which sends marmots and turtles 10 sleep at the onllet of winter." Victor Fournel. Ce qll ' O ll voit claM tes m es de PlI,.i.s (Parill, 1858), p . 283 ("'Cochers de 6acre8. r.oc hers de remise et cocllcra d ' omnibulI"). [M7a,11 "At the time Eu!ene Sue'll Myster-el de Poris wall published , no one, in certain neighborhoodll or the capital, doubled the existence or a Tortillard , a Cbouette. a Prince Rudolplle. n Cha rles wuandre. Lei Icues subve,.sives de notre temps (pa rill. 1872), p . 44. [M7a,2]
The first proposal for an omnibus lIylltem came from PascaJ and wall realized Ull(ler Louill XIV, ...·ith the characteristic ret;triclion " that lIoldie" . pagei. foot !lIen , allli other liver y. including laborers and hired hands, were not permitted entry into said coaches." In 1828. introduction of the omnibuses, about which a p{)s t~ r tellB us: " Thesl' " erueleR ... warn of thei,. approach by snunding specially dE:!!igned horns." ElI Shll~ d 'Au r iac. fli5toi,.e anecdotique de l"imlust,.ie fran r;o.i.se (Paris. 1861 ). pp. 250. 281. [M7a,3]
Among the phantoms of the cit)' is "La.mbert"-an invented figure . a HfineuT perhaps. In any case. he is allotted the boulevard as the scene of his apparitio ns. l otte is a fam ous couplet with the refrain, "Eh, Lambert !" Delvau, in his LifJ'fIJ dujuur <Paris, 1867). devotes a paragra ph to him (p. 228). [M7a,4] A rustic figure in the urban scene is descnb ed by Dclvau in his chapter "Le it cheval n
PaUVTe
was a poor devil whose means fo rbade his going o n foot, and who asked for alms as another man might ask for directions .... This mend icant ... on his lilde nag. \vith its wild mane and its shaggy coat like that of a rural d onkey, has lo ng remained befo re my eyes and in my imagination ... . H e d ied-a rentier?' Alfred Delvau, us LionJ dujour (Paris, 1867), pp. 11 6- 117 ("Le PaU VTC a cheval"). [M7a,S] Looking to accentuate the Parisians' new feeling for nature, which rises above gastrono mical temptations, Rattier writes : "'A pheasant, displaying itself at the door of its leafy d welling, wou1d make its gold-and-ruby plumage sparkJe in the sunlight . .. , so as to greet visitors . . . like a nabo b o f the forest ." Paw-Ernest de Rattier, Paris n 'eXUlt pas (Paris, 1857), pp. 71 - 72 . 0 Grandville 0 [M7a,6]
,·It ia emphatically not the counterfeit Paris that will ha ... e produced the rubberneck .. . . Aa for the Hi neur, who was always- -<m the sidewalks and before the display windows-a man of no account , a nonentity addicted to charlatan!! and ten-cent emotion., a . tranger to aU that WIlS not cobblestone. ca b, or gaa lamp , . . . he has become a labo ~ r, a wine s rower, a manufacturer of wool. sugar, and iroD . He i. no longer dumbfounded at nature 's ways. The germination of a plllnt no longer seems to him external to the fa ctor y methods 1I/II! tl in the Faubourg S aint ~ Denis ." Puul~ E rlle't de Rattier, Poris n 'uiste pall (Pa ris . 1857) , pp_ 74-75.
IM8,ll In his pamphlet Lc Sii clt mnudit (Paris, 1843), which takes a stand against the corruptio n of contemporary society, Alexis Dumesnil makes use o f a fiction of Juvenal's : the crowd on the boulevard suddenly stops still, and a record of each individual's tho ughts and objectives at that particular mo ment is compiled
(pp. \03-\04).
IM8 ~)
"The contradiction belwet'n town and country . .. is the r r asse8t expres. ion of the liubjet:tion of the indi ...idual to tile di ... isioll of labor, 10 a spcc.ific activity forced upon him-a subjection that makes olle man into a na rrow-minded city animal , another into a nurro w~minded country animal : '
AI the Arc d e Triumphe: "Ceaselessly up alld duwn these streets pa rade the cabriolets, omnibuses. swallows. velucifere8, r it ndines. damel blanche5. Ilnd nil the uther public cUllveyallCtlS, whate ...er they mlly he called- not to meutioll the inllu ~ lIIera ble wbiskies , hf' rlills, harouclle., ltorsellIell , and horSt'womell ." L. Rellstab. Puri.s im Friihju hr 1843 (Leipzig, 184<' ), "01. I. p. 2l2. The uuthor also mentions a n omnibus that carried iRS destin ation written on a fl ag. [M8,4] Around 1857 (see 1-1 . de Pene . I'oris illtime fPa r is_ 1859) , p. 22-1-), the upper level of the ulIlllihus WIIS c10tied h i wumen. IM8,S]
A Paris omnibw. Lithograph by Honod Daumier, 1856. The caption ~ads: "Fifteen centimc:s for a full bath ! My word, what a bargain !" Stt M8,5.
"The genial Va utrin , disguised as the abbe Carlos Herrera , had fureseen the Parisia ns' infatuation with public transport when he ill\'csted all bis fund. ill tramit companies ill urder to ilettle a duwry on Lucien de Ru bempni'" Poete . Seaure" aire, Clollzot . and Henriot, Une Promena de a tra ver.s Pa n. au tempI de. romarttiqut!l : E XI)05ition de III Biblioth eque et des Tra v(If.I.X h isloriqu el de la Ville de I'aris (1908). p. 28 . [M8,6]
"Therefore the one: who sees, withou t hearing, is much more .. . wonied than tile one who hears \vithout sc=eing. This principle is o f great imponance in understanding the sociology o f the modem city. Social life: in the large city . . . shows a great prepo nderance of occasions to Stt rather than to hear people. One explana tion . . . o f special significance is the devclopme:nt of public me:ans o f transportation. Before the appearance of omnibuses, railroads, aJld streetcars in the nineteenth century, me:n were not in a situation where, for minutes or ho urs a t a time. they could o r must look at one another witho ut talking to one another?' C. Simmcl, Mi langts de philruophit rilaliuule: Conln'bulion Ii ItJ culture phil010pn;que
no my. The difference between this physiognomy and that of the eighteenth [M8a, I]
century desetveS study.
·'Varis. , . dre8Sel up a ghllSl in old nllmbe" of Le Cons,irutionnel. Dnll produces Chodruc Duclos." Victor lIugo, Oeuvres complete,. nO\'d s, \' 01. 1 ( Paris, I881), p . 32 (l..e.! lUiserable., ch . 3)."'" [M8a,2]
(This preface oPI)eared- p rell umahl y as u review of the fi rst L-tlition- in l..e j\lonite ur IIni versel of Jalluary 2 1, JSS4 . II would aplJt!ar tu be whoUy or in part idenlicaJ tu Gauticr's "-l\IoU'iIIUt: de ruint:S." in "ari, e' les I"nrisien, Ult XIX' . ieck [Paris. 1856]. ) [MO.' [
'/u"
" The mosl hetcn lgcncoll8 tcmporal clements t.hlls cuexi;;t in the city. If we ste p from a ll eightcclltlH'clllliry hOllse ;lIto one from the sixteenth century. we tumble do"'u the slope of time. RiSlu next door s tulld ~ II GUlliic chlll·l·h, olld wellink to the de pths. A few slt'ps flll·ther, "'e are ill It sln°ct from Oul of the early ycan:! of UismaITk '8 rlll t· ... • ali(I once again climbing the mountain of time, Whoevcr Ilt:ts foot ill 8 city feel.. caughl tip as ilia weI! of drClI.ms. where the most remote past is linked to tht: events of loday. One house allies with a ll otlll~r, no matter what period Ihe)' come from , a nd a street iii OOrn . And thcn iusofar liS this street , which ma y go hack to tile age of Goethe, ruw into another, whil·h ma y ,late from the Wilhelmine years , the dis trict emerges . . . . The climactic po int!! of the city are itll &qua ru: her e, from every direction , COn\'erge not onl y numcrous stree ts but all the strea ms uf their his tory. No sooller have they flowed in than they are containi:d ; the cdgCII uf the square scrve as qua ys, so that alrcady the outward form of the "quare provides information ahoutlhe history that was played llpon it . ... Thinp which find no expre.llliull ill political event!!, or find only minimal exprellllion , unfold in the cities: they are a lI uJlcrfin e instrument , responsive as an Aeolian haq,.......despite their specific gravity-to the living historic vibrations of the ai r." Ferdinand Lion , Geschichte biotogisch geaehen (Zurich a nd Leipzig <1935», PP' 125-l26, 128 (i.Notiz uber Stadte'·). [M9,4J
HirondeUes <SwaUown, Citadines, Vigilantes
Delvau beliel'C8 he can recognize the social strata of Parisian society in Rinerie as easily u a geologist recogni7;I's geological strata . [M9a. l]
Paris as landscape spread out helow the paillterll: " AI )'ou cr088 the Rue Notre-Dame--de· Lorette . lift up you r head and diJ"e(:t your gaze ut one of thost' platform• . crowning the Italianate house,. YOIi cannot fail 10 notice, etched against the sky lIev('n storiell above the le\'e! of Ihe pavements. lomcthing resembling a Hcarec:row l!tllck oul in a field . , .. At fint you see a dressing gown uJKln wbich all the colors of the r ainhow are blcndetl without haJ"DIon y, a pai r of long trOUM"r s of outlandith s ha pe . and slippera impossible In describe.. Under Ihis hu rieStlue IIpparel hides a chez .oi ( Paris ( 1854)). 1' 1)' 191 - 192 (AJberic Secoud . "' Rue young painter. ,. Notre--Dame..d e-Lorette·'). [M9,11
The lII un of lelltln : " The most poignant realities ror hilll al'e not HpetJtaelea but studies." Mfretl Delvau, l.es DeuQIU de PariJ ( Parill, 1860), p . 121. [M9a,2J
On Victor Hugo: "'The morning, for him . was consecr ltted 10 icdentary labors, the afler noon to lahora of wandering. He adored the upper levels llf omnibuses-those 'traveling balconies,' as he called them-from which he could 51udy at his leisure the various aspects of the gigantic city, He claimed that the deafening brouhaha of Paris produced in him the same effect as the sea." Edouard Drumout, Figuru de bronte ou s(atuel de neige ( Paris c190(h), p . 25 ("Victor Hugo"), [M8a,3) Separate existence of each quartwr: a rOllRd the middJe of the century it WII/I still be.ing said oCthe De Saint·Louis that if a girl there lacked a good reputation, she had to Beek her future husband outside the dis trict . [M8a,4]
" 0 night! 0 refreshing darkne u! ... in the s tony la byrinths of the metropolis . IIcintillation of sta rs , bright burds of city lights, yo u are the fireworks of the goddess L.ibcrt y! " Charlell Uauclelaire . Le Spleen de ParU. ed . Hilsum ( Paris), 1'. 203 ("I.e Cr epuscule du lIoir"V 1 (M8a.5] Names of omnihu5e5 around 1840, in Gaitan Nie povie, Etude. ph y.wlogique, le, grandes melropoles de l'Europe occidentale {Paris, 1840), p , 113: Paruienne&,
Poru
Gef(roy, under the illlfJreuion made h y the works of MeryolI : " These are rcpre· senloo things ..... hich givc to the viewer the pos~ ihility uf d rea ming thenl ." Gustave Ceffroy, Charle, Meryon (Paris , 1926). p , 4 . [M9.2] " The omnibus-Ihal I...n 'ialha.ll of coadlwurk----r.riuc rollscs with all the man y ca .... riagell at the l pet:d of lightnin&!" Thi:ophilt: GauIler [in Edoultrd Fournier, I'llris tiemoli.. 2ml CII. . with a "n·fllce by M. Theophile Gautier ( Paris, 1855), p . iv].
"'A man ... ho goes for a walk ought nolto have III concern himself with any hazardll he ma y run into or with the regullttions of u d ty. If an am using idea entera hill head , if u CU.rioliS IIhopfront comt:s inlo vie"" , it is nulural that he would wa nl to crolls the streel without confronting d a n gt!r~ such as our grandparents could Pili have imagi ncd . But hi' cannOI do this today without tukillg a huntlred precautions, ...ithout ch« king thl' huri w n . witllout a5king the advice (If th(' pnlir.e Ilcpa rtmenl , wit iioul mixing witll U Ilu:.tcd and brea lhless henl , fur ... i1ullIlhe wa y i ~ ma rkcd out ill u,l vll nce by bits of shining metol. Lf he triell III cllileet the whimsicltl thoughts thutmay have '~(!IIII' to milld. vt:r y pO!l~ ibl y OI~I·lt s iOlied by ~ i j!:h tll on the strt,t:t . he ia tleafened by "ur horn8, s tupefied by Illud ta lken . .. anll demoralizl',1 by Ule IicrUJls or COllversaliun , of political meetings. of j azz . ... hidl esellpt: slyly from tile "'ill(lo.ws. In former timcs. morcover, hill ilrutilel"ll , lilt" ruhberuec:kll , who umhled Itlong Sll eUlIiJy down I.he sillewalks a nd Slopped a 1II01llt:1I1 evcrywllllreo lcnt 10 the Strealn of humanit y a &Clltlelles~ and a trHlltjlliJIit y whicll it has losl. Now il is a
to ...... t' lit whe...e yo u ar e "'011(.'(1, buffeted , CIIIII up. lind swept 10 one lIide lind the ..tiwr.... Edmond J aloux, " L..: Ot' rlli ~ r folii lleur:' U Temp~ (Mlly 22. 1936). (M9a,3) "1'0 lean witholll hcillg forced in IIny way, and to follow your inspiration as i( the mere (uc t of turning right or lurning left alrcady eonstituted 1111 essentially poetic act!' Edmolltl Jaloux , " kDe rnier flaneur," I.e Temps (May 22. 1936). [M9a,4)
boota or slu)e8 , a farmer that ht' i!l going to fertilize and pluugh his land . Lei us take. a stiU fllore striking example: genius is a lor l of immatt:rial ~ IUI whose r ays give pulor to cverything I' a~~ing by. Cannot 1111 illiol be inunedia tcly recognized by ('hanlctt' ristic8 which are the opposite of tholie-shown by a man of genius? .. , Most (lhser" anl people. ~ Iud ent s of social na ture in Pa ris, are able to tell the profe8!lion of a " a .~scrby liS they k'C him approach ." Il onore de Balzac. Le CO lls itl Pons . in OeU!lreH:ompiefe$ , vol. 18, Scenell de W lJie /J(lrisie'ltle. 6 (Paris. 19 14), p . 130.:-1
[MIO,41 " Oickens .. . could nol remai n in Lau8anne because, in order to write hi. noveu, he needed the immense labyri nth of London streets where he could prowl about contilluoutly.... Thomall De Quincey .. , , all Baudelaire tells us, WII S 'a sort of periplltetic, II "reel philosopher pondering his wa y endlessly through the vortex of the great cit}',"-- Edmond J alou" , "'Le Dernier l-laneur:' fA Temps (May 22, (936). {M9a,51 " Taylor's obsession , aud that of his collahorators and succe810rl, u the ' war on Ri nerie.·.. Geor ges Friedmann, La Crise du progres (Paris ( 1936) , p . 16.
IM IO,11 The urban ill Balzac: " Nil lure appears to him in its magical aspect as the arcanum of maHer. It appeal1l to him in ils symholic aspect a8 the reverberation of human cnergies anll aspiratiolls: in the crashing of the ocean 's wavefl . he experience. the 'c.~ altation of human forces'; and in the. show of color and fra grance produced by fl owers , he reads the cipher of 10ye'l longing. AJways , for him , Ilatu re lignifiet something other, an intimation of spirit. The opposite movement he dou not recognize: the immersion of the human back into nature, the say ulS accord with Ital1l. do ud .. ..... ind•. He was far too cngrolsed by the tellsions uf Imman existence," Ernst Rohert Curtius, BCluac (BOlin . 1923), pp. 468-469. ~1l0~1 ;'Balzac li yed a life . " . of furi ous has te and premature collapse, a life such as that _ impllsed 011 tilt: inhabit a nts of hig cities by the ~lIruggie for existence in modem society.... In Daluc's cote \o\'e see, for the 6rl l time, a geniuil who sh area such. life and Ii" e! it a5 his 0101'11 ." Erllsl Robert Curtiut, Bauac (Bonn , 1923), pp. ~ 465 . On Ihe question of tempo , com!,are the following: " Poetry a nd arl .. , derive from II ' quick inspection of things. ' . " . Ln Seraphila . velocity is introduCtld as.an esSt'ntial feature of a rtistic intuition : " that ' mind's eye' wbose. rapid percepbon ell ll fO ngender \o\' ithin the IlIul , as on It CIInvas, the most di vcr 8e land8cal>et of the wor ld :';!l Ernst Robert Curtius, Babae (8 0nn , 1923), p . 445. [MIO,3J ';If Cod. has imprinted e,"ery ma n's destill Y in hill physioplomy, . . . why " "III ". , r . SlIIce ' the hand shoullin' t the human hand 5um lip th at p h ySlOgnomy I !leU "" mpriscs human action in its eUli.rely and id itl> lillie IlIealiH of mall ife~latio~? III~nCf' pnlmilltr y. . . . Ttt foretell lhc even ta of a man 's life from the I ludy of his hand is a fca t ... 110 more extraord.in ary Ihan telling a soldier he is going 10 fight. a barrifter that he is going to plead Ii! (:a U III!:, a cobhlcr Ihat he it! going to make
"Whlil mel! call love is very small, ,'ery re.tricted, and very weak comllared with this illcffah l{· orgy, this holy prnstitutioll of the lIoul which gives illelf entirely, poetry and cha rity, to the unforeseen that reveals itself, to the unknown that haJlpt'lls along:' C h a rl ~ Baudelai re. Le Spleen de Puris. ed . R , Simon , p. 16 ("LeIJ Foulct" ).!S [MlOa,l) "Which of us, in his monleills IIf ambition, h85 1I0t dreamed of the nUracle of II. poetic prose . musical, without rhythm and without rhyme. s upple enough and rugged enuugh tu allap t itllt:lf to the lyrical impulses of the suul , the undulation. of revcrie, the- jibes of cOllscience? l it was, above all. out of my exploration of huge cities, out or the medley of tbeir innumerable interrelations. that this baunting ideal waa horn." Charles Baudelaire. Le Spleen de Paris. ed . R. Simon , pp. 1-2 ("A ArsClle Hou&8aye").:6 [MIOa.2) "There is nothing more profound . more mysterious, mor e pregnant, more insiclitl us. more dazzling than a window lighted by. single candle ." CharJes 8audelaire, I.e Spleen de Puris. ed . R. Simon (Paris). p . 62 ("Les Feni!tres"}.:; [MIOa.3) "The artiit ieeks eternal truth anti knOW! nothing of tht! eternity in his midst . He admires tbe t":lIl umn of the Babylonian temple and scorns the smokestac k on tbe factory. Yet wbal i. the difference in their lines? When Ihe era of coal-powered illilustr y is over, people wilJ admire the vestigell of the lu t smokestack"! as tod ay "'"e admire the remains of templtl. columnll , ... The steam vapor 8(l dete8ted by wri ters allowli them to divert their admira tioll .... Instead of waiting to visil the Bay uf Bj~lIglll to lintl ohjccts to exclaim over, they m.ight have a lillie curiosity aiJout the. objccts they see in dail y liCe. A porter al the Gnre de I'f~st ill no Icu Ilictures(lut' Ill an /I coolie in ColomOO .... To walk out your front door aB if yo u1vc jll"t arriv('d frolll a foreign counl.ry; to di/Jeove r the world in which YOIl Illready Ih'{': 10 hegililhe day as if you ' ve jllst gollCll offthe hoat from Singapore IIml have II n .. r Secn YOllr o\o\'n doormai ur the peoplc 0 11 IIII~ la nding ... - it is this th at rt: \'eals Ihe humanity befo re yo u , un known ullill 1I0 W." Picrre HamJl' " La LitteraIUrt', ima ge de la sodete" ( En cydoped;efrunr;(~ i.se. "01. 16, Ar u e' /itteru ,ureli duns /11 "(oc ;4!' e con/em/lOraine . I. 1" 64). 1M 103041 Chesterton fas tens 011 a i lleCimen of English a rgot 10 characterilEe Dickt'lis ill his rdati(tII 11.1 lilt' litreel : " He ha8 1.he key to the llreet" issai ti of someone 10 whom the
,Ioor is c1oscd . " Oi,:kclIs himself had , ill the most ~ acTe,1 a nd serioull sellse of the lerm , the key II) the ~ tr ~cI ... . His earth Wail tlie atoncs of the U Teet ; his llt.l lrs were lilt' lamps of the IItreet ; his hero was the man in the streel. Ue I:oul,1 open the illmust door of hill h O Il ~e-th r ,Ioor that leads into that lIecret I)Ullilge which is lined with houses and roofed wil.h sta rs." C. K. Chesterton , Dicker". series enti_ tled Vies deJ homme, iUII.Jtrc,. vol. 9 , tramdated from the English b y Laurent and Martin-Dupont (Paris, 1927). p. 30. n [MIl ,I) Dickem as a child : " Whenever he had done drudging. he had no other resource hut drifting. ami he drifted over half London . He was a dreamy chiltl. L!Jinking mostly of his own drea ry pros l~ I B. , . , He did Dot go in for ' observation ,' a priggiBh habit ; he did not look at Ch aring Cr oS!! to improve his mind or count the lamppOSI8 in Holhorn to practice hili arithmetic. But unconsciously he. made all these placell the scenes ofth t> monlilrous drama in his miserable little. sou) , He walked in darkneu und('r the lamps of Holborn, and W 08 crucified at Charing Crou. So for him ever aflerwa rds thcst' places had the beauty that onl y belongs to hattlefields ," C. K. Chesterton , Dick enl. series entitled V'J.C del homme5 illlUlre" vol. 9, tranl_ luted from the. English by Laurent and Ma rtin-Dupont (Paris, J 92i). pp . 30-31.19
({racauer write!! that " the boukllurdier•... esc:hewell nature .. .. Ntlture. wtlS a8 PllltolUC, ti S volclillic. as Ii..- I'cu"lc." S. Krllcouer. J acques Offenbach (Amster. dam. 1937), " . 107.)1 [Mlla,4) On the detective Ilo\·d : " We must hike 1.111 all f!~ t a hJjs h cd fael thal 1hV! metamorp l l o~ i s of the city is due 10 a t.ransl'ositioll (.If the setting-namely, frolll Ihe sa van.fWI! auclfores, of Fenimore CoolH!r, where every hroken brnocb sir;nifies B worry ur a hope. wheret" '!!r y tr ee trunk hidf'1I a n enemy rifl e or the bow of a n invisible ani l silt'o t avengt!r. Beginnin g ",; th Balzac. 011 writers h avf! clearly rttorded this ,Ielll and faithfull y rcnd,>rcli to Cooper what they owet.l him . Works like Mohi~ C(H1 ' de Htris. b)" AJextlmler Duma&--wor ks where the title says aU-are elltremely commo n ." Rogf!r Cai.llois. " Paris. mythe motlerne," NO ll velle Revue ! rall('uise. 25, no. 284 (MIlY I . 1937). PI" 685-(~6. {Mlla,5]
u,
Owing to the influence of Cooper, it becomes possible for the novelist in an urban setting to give scope to the experiences of the hunter. TIlls has a bearing on the rise of the detective Story. [M ll a,6)
(Mil ,'] On the psychology IIf the ft aneur: '·The. undying scenes we I:all all see if we shut our eyes a re not the SC.'lIes thai we hllve 6lare.t at IInder the direction of guide-books; lhe scenes we see arc the IIcen e~ a l which "" edid not look at a ll- thclcenes in which we walke,1 when we were thinking Ilbout something else-abollt a lIin . or a love. \ affair. or somec.hildish sorrow. We can seethe background now because we did Dol lICe it then . So Dicken@,Iill not stump these places on hi.!! mind ; be ua mltCd hill mind on these pilleI'll." C . K. Ch l'slerton. Dickem. series elltiti.,1 Vie chi homme' illlll lre', vol. 9 . translated fro m the Eng.lish by Laurenl and Martin-Dupont (Pari •• 1927), " . 3 1.[M H ,S) Dickenll: " In May of 1846 he ran over to Switzerland and tried to write Dombey
and Son al Liluu nue . .. , He could not get on . He auributed this t>8pecially to hiB 10\'e of Londoll and his 101l@ of it , ' the ab sence of streets and numbert of figures. , .. My figure8 Heem disposed to stagnate wit hoot crowds abo ut them. ,II C. K. Chesterton , Dicken.. , IralllllalOO from the English by I..a urenl and MartiDDuponl (Paris, 1927), 11 . 125.' 1
{MIla,l )
" In ... I.e Voyuge de MM. Dllnmllln p e.re etjiu , two p rovincials lir e deceived into thillking thai Paris is not Paril hut Vellice, which Illey hili! sci 0111 10 vi!l.it . . . . Paris Q8 all intoxication of aU the senses, as a "Iacf:. of ,ldiriulII ." S. Kracaue.r, J flCqll.C' Offe'llxtc!' Illid ria. Pari.! .einer Zeit (Amster.lam , 1937). p . 2H3 .l: [Ml la,2) According to a remark by Mussel, the "E ast Indies" begin at a point beyond the boundary o f the bo ulevards. (Sh ou1dn't it be called instead the Far East?) (See Kracauer, 0ffmbach, p. I05.)3.1 {Mlla.S)
" h SrtlllS reasonahle 10 say Ihat there exisl8 . . . a phalltasmagorical reprC'" sentntiull of Parill (and , IIIUTt: generaU y, of the hig city) with such power over the imagination that tile 'Iuestion of itll accuracy would never he posed in practice-a representation created fl:lltireiy hy the book , yet so widespread as to make up , .. part of the collecti ve mental atmoMphere:' Roger Caillois. " Paris, my the mod[MI 2, l) erne." Nouvelle R evlt~fra nt;ai.Je , 25 , no. 284·(May I , 1937), p . 684 . ""The Faubourg Saint-Jacque, i, olle of the 01011 primitive suburbs of Pam . Why is tha i? Is it because it is lIur rouncied by four hospitals as a citad el ulurrouoded by four bastions. and thcse hospitals keep the tourists away from the neighborhOod? Is il hec:tl use, leading 10 no nlajor artery and termina ting in DO center, ... the " lace it rurel y visited b y cuKCitCS? Thus . as 800n ali one appears In the dis tance, the lucky urchin who spiel il first cups his hallth around hill mouth and gives a signal to all till' inhabitallls of tlle (Kllhuurg, just a ~ . on the sea!;hore, the one who firSI 511UI II a sai.1 0 1.1 the horizon gives u signal to thc other s." A. Dumas, Lel Molti· e(l"$ de Pnris, vol . I (Paris, IH59). I)' 102 (cil . 25: "0,', il est question des sauvages 1111 FCl uholl rg Suint-J acques"). The cha pter descrihes nothing but the arri val uf a hcfo l'e a hou8c in tilt' ,li!!lr i.'I. No one suspect!! Ih at the object is a mUllical .IJia1i1l Instr uillenl , hUI a ll arc CIITll,,'III'cd " y Ih.' siglll of "a huge pie..-c. uf Illllhogany {po 103). For mallOgullY fu r nilurl' was IIi! yel h anlly knuwn ill this qlturticr. (MI ',']
.
1'11.· first 1O"01'.ls of all ad vt'rliscmclIl for U~ Mohicans de Pu.r~; " Pari! -The MoIli,'ulu ! . , . Twu IIlI mes U8 discurlluli l a ~ Ihe Ilui ... h·c of tlO"OI gigantic unknOlO"lIl, confTf>lIting each other at the hrink of 1111 BbYh trB\'er!led hy tllat d et:tric light whose source is Alexa ndre DUlU ue." [MI2,3)
-
Frolltispie...-e or I.he Iwrll vo lume o f LeI Mohica~ de Virgin Forcs,"' (or Ihe Rile d 'Enrcr).
Pun..
(Paris . 1863): "Tbe
[MI2,4)
" What wtJllderful precautions! What vigilance! What ingenious pn!I)llratiolls li nd keen altclltion to Iletail! The North American savage who, Cl'en as he moyea, oLLileratc8 hi. footprint8 in Imler to elude the enemy al his heels is 1101 more .;killful or more nu~ticuJl)tU in hil prec::a utions, " Allrw Nellcmcnt , E ludel lur I.e f cltilleflJlI . romfm. vol. 1 (Paris, 1845), p. 419. [M12,5]
\1J.gny (according 10 Mil s Corkran , Cetebrirics and I (Lonllon , 1902>, citoo in L. Seeile, A. de Ylglly, vol. 2 <Paril, 1913), p . 295). on viewing the chimneys of ')ans; " I adore these chioUleys .. .. Oh. yes, the 8moke of Paris is more beautiful 10 me than the solitude of forests and mountains." [M 12,6]
One does well to consider the de:te:ctiv(: story in conjunction with the: methodical genius of Poc=, a.! Valery does (in his introduction to us FleurJ du mal [Paris, 1928], p. xx): "To reach a point which allows us to dominate: a whole: field of activity m=cessari.ly means that one: perceives a quantity of possibilities .. .. It is thuefore not surprising that Poe, possessing so ... sure a method, became the inventor of se:V(:ral differem literary forms-that he provided the firSt ... examples of the scientific tale, the modem cosmogonic poem. the detective novel. the [M!21l,1] literarure of morbid psychologica1 states ...!$ CORf,:erning Poe's " Man of the Crowd." this passage from an article in La Semaine of October 4, 1846, attributed to Balzac or to Hippo! yte CM8LiUe (cited in Meuac (Ue "De ,u,ioe Novel" e' ["injllUmce de hi pemee IckntiJUJl1-e [Paris, 1929]). p . 424): " Our eye is fixed on the man in society who mOVe8 amo ng Jaws, s nares. the betrayals of his confedera tes. as a 811vage in tbeNew World moves Kmong reptileil. ferocioul.l heasts. and enemy tril>eM ." [M!2a,2j
Ch"ptcr 2 , "Ph)'lIiugumnie d e 18 rue:' in the .4rs umen' d" liure IlIr lu Belgique: " Wuhing of the sidewalkll and the fu\,aclcs of houselI , I!VCII wht'n il rllUll1 in to rl"I:nl ii . A nalionullllalliu, a univers ulmanilt . ... No display winduws in the shops. nunt'rie , 80 dear 10 nation, .. ndowed with imllginltlion , impolIsihle in Brulilleill i nothing hi ~t."tl , alulilic rOluis impou ihle." Baudelaire, Oeuvre,. vol. 2, ed . Y.·C . Le Dantec< Paris. 1932>. pp. 709-710. (M12a,5]
Le Uretoll re pa-oaches Ba lu c with !allvi ng oCferecltlte reader " KII excesa of Molti· ('8 11l1 in spencer jacketil and of Jr()(lllUis in frock coats ." Citt'tl in Reljis Messac. Le "Detectiue Nouer et l'injlm'.n{·e de hi IH!nree scientifilJue (Pari8, 19"29). p . 425. (MI3, 1] Frolll the opening pages of Le,1I1Ylterel de Pllri.; " Everyone hlls read Ihose admirable pages UI which Fenimore COOller, Ihe American Waller Scott , has brought to life the fierce. ways of the savages, their colorful and poetic speech, the thousand lrick~ they lise when following or fl eeing their em.:m.ics . ... It is our inlenl 10 brin~ before the eyes of the reader lIome episodelll in the uvea of varions other harbarianil, no less removed from the civilized world dllm the trihe~ 80 well portrayetl by Cooper:' Ciled in Regiil Messac. Le "Detective Novel" (Paris, 1929). p. 425. 3 • [M13,2]
Noteworthy COlU1ection between 8inerie and the detective novel3.t the beginning of Us Mohicans de Paris: ..At the outset Salvator says to the poetJean Robert, 'You want to write a novd? Take Lesage, Walter Scott, and Cooper. . . .' Then, with characters like those of the 'fhowarul alll! On~ .Nights, they cast a piece of paper to the winds and follow it, convinced it will lead them to a subject for a novel, which is what in fact happens." Regis Messac, LL "Delectiue .Nouel" el I'injluence de la pensi~ ;cientf/ique (Paris, 1929), p. 429. [M13,31 0 11 tile epigollcil of Sue and Babac. "wbo ca me Hwarming to the serial no\'e!s. The
Apropos of "The Man of the Crowd": BulwCf<·LyttoD> orchestrates his desaiption of the big-city crowd in Eugrne Aram (pt. 4, ch. 5) with a reference: to Goethe's observation that every human being) from the humble:st to the most distinguished, carries around with him a secret which would make him hateful [0 all others if it became known. In addition, then: is already in Bulwer a confronta· tion between city and country that is weighted in favor of the city. [MI2a.3] AprO(lOli of detective fiction: " In dlt· American beru-fantailY, the Indi an 's cha rac· ter plKYS II leading role . .. , Ouly the Indian rites of initiation can compa re with the rlllhieiliinen allli sovagcry of rigoro us Ameril:all traini ng.... In everything on ", lliuli t.he AIm:rican has really l et hi ~ hea rt , we call:h It glimpse of II", IJulian , His c)I;lrlwrdinary l!tJIU!Clllratiun 011 II. particular goal . his tf'lI"city uf purpo!lt' , bis unflinc:hing endurance of t.he greatest hardslLi ps--in all thi~ the 1c@:cnd ary virtuell of the ImliKIl lind fllU elllll'cssioll :' C. G . Jung. See leflprolileme der Gegellu}{Irt ( ZUrie·h , I..t'ipzig. Stuttgart , (932), p . 207 (,'See!e uilil Ercl.... )..... [M 12a.41
Lnflut'lIct> of Cooper makes itllelf fdt here sumetimes directl y and sometimes thruugh the mediation of Balzac or olher imitators. Paul Fe-val, beginning in 1856 with Le, CQlll e allX d'or ('J'he Golden Knives>. boldl y trans poscs the habits and evell the inhal)i tan ts of the prairie to a Parisian setLi ug: we find t!tere K wontlerfolly giftetl dog nllmet! Mohican . all American.style duel hetween !tullter>! ill a Pa ri. stWurb , and u redskin called Towah WllO kiUs IIlltl scal(Jil four of his cnelllit's ill II hll.ckncy cab in Illc middle of Parill. and pe rfornUlthis feal with s uch dexterity thatlhc Ilriver nt'ver lIoticell . Lllter, in Les HuM,s IIQir~ <TIll' llJu ck Allin') (1863). Ile lJiuhi (Jlics thOle ctllllpariiltills of whil'h Balzllc is i ll fond: ' Cool.er\1 l lavagd in UI\, middle o)f Paris! Is 1101 Ih .. hig cil Y 3 S mYli t l"rioll~ a& the forestl! of the Ncw World?'" All adwlinllul rcmark: " C(lmparc abll t:baptc.rll 2 alld 19. in ",hjch he brings two vagabOlIlI, on the iI,'ene. Echalot alltl Similt)l". · lIuI·tIll S of I/ur lakeii uf IIIlId , iroquois of till' gUller.·" Ri-gis Meliu c. '·V!'ter.lilif! NOlwl"", {'infillence lie Iv l"msee. scicruifique, Kcries t'ntitll!tllJibliotltitl{lIf' de I lt , -e Vil!' ,1(, filt erutllre CO" ,," l·fJ ~e. vol. 59. PI'. 425-426 . [M13.41
u
"Thai potl ry of te rror whic h the. lI tralago:-ms of e ne my lrihef al war create ill the hClirt of I.hc for.l ~ t 8 of Amcd ca, allli ofwh.ich Coopcr has matle f oc h goOtI Uie, was !lHac hed to Ille ijmallt!sl d t:tail8 'lf Pllri.'lian life. The pa.'l8cuhy, the 8hll1'5, the hackney ca rriages. a pe rso n s ta nding at a window- to the mell who ha tl heell lIumhercll off fo r thc defen l!e of Peyradc's life, e verything preScfltetit.he ominOUI intere!t whic h in Cutll* r 'lI no vels may be fou nd ill a tree t ru nk, a beaver',. dam , a rock, a bufIalo ~ kill, a motio nleu ca noe. a branch tlrooping over the wa te r." Balzac. A com bien l 'umour revient fl UX tlwillardJ.J8 (M 13a, 1]
Prefonned in the figure of the fiineUT is that of the detective. lbe Baneur required a social legitimation of his habirus. It suited him very weti to sec. his indolence presented as a plausible front , behind which, in reality, hides the riv· eted attention of an observer who will not let the unsuspecting malefactor out of ~.
~~
At the end of Baudelaire's essay on Marceline Desbordes-VaImore emerges the promen(ulj who strolls through the garden landscape of her poetry; the perspectives of the past and future open before him. "But these skies are. tOO vast to be everywhere pure, and the temperature of the climate too warm .... The idle passerby, who contemplates these areas veiled in mourning, feels tears of hysteria come to his eyes." Charles Baudelaire, I:Art romontiqu( (Paris), p. 343 ("Mareeline DesbordesValmore n)." The promroror is no longer capable of "meandering capriciously." He takes refuge in the shadow of cities: he becomes a Baneur. [M13a.3] Jult:!! Claretie rt'iatell ufthe aged Victor Hu@o,atthe time whenhe was livinf!:onthe Rue Pigalle, tha t he e njoyed r iding through Parill o n the u pp~r le yel of omnibUllel. He loved looking dow n , from this e minellce, on the hus l1e of I1le slJ"eetli . See Ra ymond E~cLuli er, Victor lIugo rucontepar cew: qui J'o nt vu (Paris , 193 1), p . 35G-Jules Claretie, " Victor Hugo." [MI3a,..] " Do you recull a tableau . . . ,crea te.1 hy the mon powe rful pe.n of o ur da y, which is entitled "The Man of the Crowtl ' ? From he hind the window of a cafi , a CODvalelcent , co nte mplating the c rowd ""ilh delight , mingle! in thought with all the Ihollgllill pulHatillg "rauml him . H aving jU8t e6capt:d from the s hadow of delith , be joyfully brclithel in all tilt! ger ms anti emana tions of life; having been o n the Imint of forgettins ever ythin g, he !l OW nmemllt~ rs and arde ntl y wis hc8 to remember e verything. Finally. he rus hes into the crowd in sea rch of all unkllo"'u per Bon wlmn fa~;I:, glimpsed tllIIlllentari.ly. fQ llcinated him. Curiosit y has lJeco nu: II fatal, irrcsislil.It, pUlliun." Ilil uddaire. L 'Art romeJIIliqlle (Puri.'j). p . 6 1 ("Le Peilll.re de In "it' Inmle rm'''):1U [MI4,t ] Alr;'Hll v Anti ,,'· lA' UnIO n . UIJ'.:UC. rlwm me c l l'ocu vrc <Pa ris. 1 905~ , COIllJlurel DaLzHc;~ dlllrHct(: r&-" lhe II~UTl'r-§ , tilt' Htlurne ),s, I.h e lJunkeT!l"-to Mo hican8. who m they rl'"~lIIhl e 'liOn:- l imn Iht·), d o the PuriJ;iuns. Sec aillO n"'lIl), t.l e Go ur-
mOIlI, PromenruJeJ liueraire~ . Mllilres lit' UQlzlic.")
~1..'C()lId
serics ( PMri ij, 1906), pp. 11 7- 11 8: " Lea
[M14 ,2]
FruJIi Baudeiaire'Ii PtJ.Jee~: "'I\1UII ... is alwa ys ... in a s ia le of sa\·agery. What a re the perils of jungle a utl prairie compa red to the daily 8hock.!! and conlLicts of ci\'i1izatioll? Whclhel' u mll n e mhrucell hi ~ du pe on the boulevard. o r spea rs hil prey in unknown fo re~ I.!I. is he nol ... the most highly l,crfected healt or pre y?" " ~14.3J
There we re rep resentatio n' ( lithographil?) by Raffel of Eeoslillises a lld Tricycle!.
(Sce 1\13a,8.)
[1.114,4]
"When Babau:. Lifts tht: roofl o r pe nel.rlttell t he wa ll~ in orller 10 clear a sl)ace for observa tion, . . . you lilltCII a t the door8.... In the interesl of sparking yo ur imagina tion, that is •... you ure "Iuying the role of what our neighhor~ Ihe Englilih , in t.hl'ir prud.iJb.llels . call the ' 1)Q li~)e detective' !" lliJipolYle Babou , La Verite s lIr k ctU tie. M . Champjleu ry ( Paris, 1857), 1" 30. [M14 ,5J
It would be profitable to discovc:r certain definite features leading toward the physiognomy of the city dweller. Example: the sidewalk, which is reserved for dl~ pedestrian, runs along the roadway. Thus, the city dweller in the course of his most ordinary affairs, if he is on foot, has constantly before his eyes the image of the competitor who overtakes him in a vehicle.-~y the sidewalks were laid d own in the interests of those who go by car or by ho~ . When? (M14.6]
"For the perfect Oallt: ur, . . , it is a n imme nle jo), to let up house in the hea rt of the nmltitutle . a mit..I the e bb a nd Row.... To be away fronl home, yel to fed o neself everywhe re a t home: to lIee the world , to be li t the cen te r of the wo rld , yet to remain hidde n fro m t he world--!luch are a few of tile slightest pleas ures of those indepe rltlenl , pll8sionate, impartial [! !l na turel which the tongue call hut clUJllli1y defin e. The s pectator is a IJrim:e whtl e VI'ryw here rejoices in his incognito .... The lover of univcTillIllife ellte rs into the crowd liS Ihough it wen: an imme nse reservoir or 1·It~ClJ"i c elle rgy. We lI1ight Alsu liken him to a mirro r 118 vas t as the crowd it&elf; or to II kQie.idolcope endowed "'jlb coJt sdousnellS, ..·ruch , with each one of it.!! moveIItI'lItS, represen ts the multiplicity of life a nd the fli c ke ring grace of an the e1emeliU OJf life:' llalulclu ire, L 'Art ramunliquc ( Paris), pp. 64-65 ("Le Peinlre de la vie mo,lernc" ). '2 [MI4a.l ]
TIll' Pads o f 1908. " A .I'a r isill ll used 10 crowlls. to traffic, a nd ttl choo~ing his still go for lung wll iks a t a steady pa('e amI even wililout.takiug muc h tare. Generall y 1l1>ell killg. Ihe a bunda nce of 111"111111 u( t ransportatio n hal l not yet gi\'CII III Ort~ t han th rt:e m illiOIl peolll,' the .. . idea Ihllt they couili move aLout jus t a~ Ilu'y Uk.:tI ami Ihat .iis ta m:e Willi Ihl' In81 thing thaI counte,!. " Jules Romaill.'j . Le.~ 110m me. de IJOlllle Dolo,,'e, iJouk I . I.e 6 octobre ( P",rill ( 1932). p . 2()"1 ..u [M14a,2]
.sll·'-"' I ~ ct,uld
In Le 6octohre, in C hapter 17, "Le Grand Voyage du petit ~on" (pp. 176- 184), RomaulS describes how Louis Bastide makes his jo urney through M ontmartre. fro m the comer of the Rue Ordener to the Rue Custine: "H e had a mission to accomplish. Somebody had commissio ned him to fo Uow a eertain course, to carry something, or perhaps to bear news of something" (p. 179). 11 In thi! game o f travd. RomalllS develops some perspectives-particularly the aJpme landscape of M ontmartre with the mountain inn (p. 180)-which resemble those in which the 05.neur's imagination can lose itSclf. [M 14a.3J Maxim of Ihe ll ii neur : " III Our siandardized and uniform world . it is right here. deep below thl' 8urrace. Ihat we mus t go. Enrangcmcnt and 8urpriM- . the most thrilling exoticism, are aU clo!le hy." Daniel HaleV)'. Pays parisif'lIs (Pari, <1 932~) . p . 153. IM I4a,4]
lnJules Romains' Gn'me lk QyineUe (LtJ H ommeJ de bOn/Ie fJO/onti, book 2), one finds something like the negative o f the solitude which is generally companion to the flineur. It is. perhaps, that friendship is strong enough to break through such solitude-this is what is convincing about Romains' thesis. "According to my idea, it's a1ways rather in that way thai you make friends with anybody. You are p resent together al a moment in the life o f the world, perhaps in Ule presence of a Beeting secret of the world-an apparition which nobody has ever seen before and perhaps nobody will ever see again. It may c=ven be something very litde. Take two men going for a walk, for example, like us. Suddenly, thanks to a break. in Ule douds, a ray of light comes and strikes the top o f a waU; and the top of the wall becomes, for the moment, somelhing in some way quite extraordinary. One o f the two men touches the other on the shoulder. The odler raises his head and sees it tOO, Wlderstands it too. Then the thing up there vanishes. But they will know in adernul/l that it once existed." Jules Romains. &s Hommes de /Hmne fIO/onli, book 2, Crime de O!!ind ll' <Paris, 1932>, pp. 175-176. n [MI5,!] M"lIanut:. " He luul croued lbf' P lace and the Pont tie l' Europe almoll every d.y (be confide.1 Iu Coorge Moor('), grippet.l by the tem ptation to tlirow himself £rom the In·igl1ls uf the hrillgc UIiIO Ihe irun r ails. Wider the trainl, t!IO lUI linaUy to elcape Ilus lIlC4.liocrit y of which he wai! pri soner." Daniel Halevy, PtIY' parisien! (Pltris d9:i 2~) . p . 105. [M I 5,2] Mit'lu:-1t' t wri lt'8: ·' I . prallg III' like a pal.· hladtl of gra ss bt'lwt.'1~u Ihe l'uviuS 910UCS" (cilell ill Hulfvy, l'uY1l pllrisie,u . p . 14). [MI 5,3]
TIle tangle o f Ule fore st as archetype of mass existence iu Hugo: "An astonishing MiJirables contains the fo Uowing lines: 'What had j ust taken place chapler o f in this street would not have surprised a forest. The trces, the copse, the hcath, the branches roughly intenanglcd, the taU grass, have a darkly myslerious existence. ·nLis wild multitude sees there sudden apparitions of the invisible: there.
us
what is below man distinguisbCll through the d ark what' is above man."'-lli Gabriel Bounoure: "Abimes de Victor Hugo; MeJureJ U wy 15. 1936), p. 49. DCcr. 1M 15.4J sciicker passage 0 '·R...search into Ihal , {"riou, diseuse. hal retl uf tht! home. Pathology c)f Ihe disease. I'rogrel'sivt' growth of the d isease." Cha rh:1 Baudelaire. Oeuvre., ed. L..e Danlec. \·u1. 2 (Puri.;. 1932). p. 653 ("'Mun Coeur Ulill Ii nu "). ·I~ [MI 5,5J Leiter accompanying Ille two ··Crepullelllt!" poem;! ; 10 Ferna nd Desnoyers. who jluhlished them in lus Fontainel,lelUl (pltril, 1855): " I' m sending YOll two piecel of I)OI"II'Y thlilmore or lellll slim up the r eVt"rie, that a8Sa il me in the twiligbt buurs. hi Lilt" dfOjllhs tlf the wood .;, sllII l iJi by those va nits thai n!f;a U lIacmtie.s and cathedral!!. I thi.nk of ollr amazing citieA, ami tha t prodigious mu&c which rolls over the summit8 secm,; 10 me a Ira !Il lation tl f tilt· lamentations of mallkind ." Cited in A. Serh':;, La Vie des flell " dll flint (PlIri~ , 1928), p. 110." 0 Baudelaire 0 [M 15a,1]
The classic early desoiptioll of Ule crowd in Ebe: "By far the greater number of those who wenl by had a satisfied, business·like demeanor, and seemed to be thinking only of making dleir way through the press. Their brows were knit, and their eyes rolled quickl y; when pushed againsl by fellow-wayfarers they evinced no symptom o f impatience. but adjusted their dOUles and hurried on. Others, still a numerous class, \,,'ere resuess in their movements, had Bushed faces, and talked and gesticulated to themselves, as if feeling in solitude on account o f the Vl:'ry denseness of the company around. Whc=n impeded in their progress, th~ people suddenly ceased muttering, but redoubled their gesticulations, and awaited, with an absent and overdone smile upon the lips, the course o f the persons impeding thClD. If jostled , they bowed profusely to the jostlen, and appeared overwhelmed with confusio n." Ebe. J(oulltlks HlJtoireJ alTaoniinairts, trans. Ch. B. (Paris d886». p. 89.'· (M l Sa,2J " Wllat are th~ perils of jungle a lI(I prairie cornparetl 10 the daily shock, and cOIulic18 of civilizlltiulI? Whctller a man t' mhrace8 his dUI>t. 011 Ihe boulevard, or spea rs his lIre)' in IInknuwll fore~ I ', ill lu: nut elernal man- that is to say, the m08t highl y perfc('ted hea~1 uf pre),?" Chade!! HUlltldai~, OeulJrf'S. ed . Le Dautec. vol. 2 <Pa ris. 1932.>. p . 637 ("FUIlt!c8").r.u [MI 5a,3]
:rne image of antiquity that so dazzled France is sometimes to be found in 1TI11nediatc p roximity to UIC ~lremel y modem image of America. Ba1zac on the ~omlllercial traveler: "Sec! \Vhat an. athletc, what an arena, and what a weapon: e.. the "'Orld, and his longue! A danng seaman, he embarks widl a stock of mere words to go and fish for money. five or six hundred thousand francs, say, in the frozen IXean. Ute land o f savages. o f Iroquois-in France!" H . de Balzac, L'JlluJtre GUlldwart, ed. Caimann·Uvy (Paris), p. 5 :" [MI5a.4]
Description 0)( the crowd in Baudelairtl,
10
be ,~o ln p arcd witl. the .IWlcriplion
use value available to a general and public review by passing that time a ll the boulevard and thus, as it were, exhibiting it. [MI 6,4]
ill
!'oe: T he guller. dillmal hed . ea rries along ill foulneakl. Carriet, Loili nf\ , the RCr ell of the sewe" ; It alapmill corrosive wavet agai rul the houses. Rushes on to jaundice and corrupt the rivl"r Seine, SIOli hing ... hi!-I, the Imccs of pedestrian, . 00 Ihe BlilllH:ry " aveIDent" everyone vaMeI hrulal and ~t.lr·a h~orhed . Elhowing aml sllaneri ng U 8 with mud , or thru~ ting 11 11 asi.l.. , III their hu rry to arrive 8Omewh e~ . Everywhere mire IUld deluge and opacity of ~ky : D ire tabll"all i llch as dark Ezekiel might have drl"aml.
The press brings into play an overabundance of infonnation, which can be all the more provocative the more il is exempt from any use. (On1y the ubiquity of the reader wou1d make possible a utilization: and so the illusion of such ubiquity is also ~neraled .) The acrual relation of this infomlaoon to social existence is determined by the dependence of the infonnation industry on financial interests and its a1igrunent with these interests. -As the infonnation industry comes into its own, intellectual labor fastens parasitically on roery matt':rial labor, JUSt as capital more and mort' brings rotTJ material labor into a relation of dependency.
a.
[MI6a, lJ
Ch . 8 ., Oeuvres , vol. I <Pari., 1931>, p. 2 11 (Pof:imes divers , " Un Jour de plwe" ).'!' (M16,1]
Sirumcl's apt remark concerning the uneasiness aroused in the urbanite by other people, prople whom, in the overwhdnling majo rity of cases, he sees witho ut hearing," would indicate that, at least in their beginnings. the physiognomies
On the detective novel : The man who hasn' t li~ed anything, who 11"£1 no picture, \Vb" was Dot tllt' rl", who Ilthl nOlhing: rIow cltn th ey catch him? Enue th e trar;u.
There is an elTo n to master the new experiences of the city within the framework. of the old traditional experiences of nature. H ence the schemata of the virgin forest and the sea (Meryon and Ponson du Terrail). [MI6a,3]
Brecht , Versuche <4-7 (Be.rlin . 1930)), p. 116 (LeselJll ch fur S liidtebewohner;
[M16.2J \
110. 1).$3
The masses in Bauddairt. They slRtch before the 8ineur as a veil: they are the newest drug for the solitary. -Second, they efface all traces of the individual: they are the newest asylum for the reprobate and the proscript.- Fmally, within the labyrinth of the city, the masses are the newest and most inscrutable laby· rinth. Through them, previously unknown chthoruc traits are imprinted on the image oflhe city. (M16,3) The social base of 81nene is journalism , As 8Aneur, the lit.erary man ventureS into the marketplace to sell himself. Just so-but that by no means exhausts ~ social side of flanerie. know," says Marx, "that the value of each commodity is determined by the quantity of labor materialized in its use value, . by the working-time socially necessary for its production" (Marx, D(J.J Ko,~/taJ, ed. Korsch
"we
~
'&ace and aura. TIle trace is appearance of a nearness. however far removed the thing that left it behind may be. The aura is appearance of a distance, however close the thing that ca.J.1s it fonh. In the trace, we gain possession of the thing; in the aura., it takes possession of us. (M16a,4] ~'a ilhrul to m)' oM 1'-IIlablislll:d wa y. I like to lurn the ftreel into a stutly; Ilow often, tllI' n. a. chant e cOntlU(;~ my ,irea mi ng 811' 1)5. I blu nder, UIll.war e5. intl) II group of pave ... !
Au~ste.Mal""lleille Ba rtiu! lemy, Pclris: Rel!Ue so ' irif/lle Ii M, C. Defeuerr , Prefe r de Pnl«:e(Parill, 1838)' 1). 8 . " M. k
(M 16a,5]
U~lon saYi th a t it ill dU' IISUI:t'l"8, auorlleys. alUllilinke rs ill BahO:iu' _ rulher Mohican~, and he lll'lit'vclI
(hltn II ... Parisilt1l8, \01'110 ijOmctimC8 SCI:III liki' ruthlt'8s
that tl... inflllelll'c o f Ft!llimure CMper ..... all lI ul pal·li.:ularl y a.l v8l1tagcflllli (01" ,III: ~utlt(pr of Gobseck . This is po~sihle, IJUt tIiIli('ult 10 prove:' Remy d c Gourmou t. I rOml'lIudt'5 liltPrt. ireJ, 21141 81;'r ies ( Paris_ 19(6). )JJl. 11 7- 118 ("Lea Muilrt!s ,Ie Bul:cae" )
.
~ J~JJ
·~rI1t. jos tling crowd e.Jnt!!is a nti Ihe. lIloll,'y ,li!HJrtlt! r "r IIIctruptllitan cORimUlli':II' hUn ..... ould ... lit' ullbt:ll railic wilhout ... p~ychologj(-u l di~ tallt·e. Suwe "onlt: n1po.
na r y urban c uhu re ... forces us l(i OO I)hYllica Uy close to a n e normo us number o( proplc • . .. pt."Qpll~ wouM ~ ink l:olIIl'lt:teiy in'" tlespair if the ohjec tifu;a tiofl o( social reiationship, ,lid 1I0t brillg with it a n inner bound ary and reserve. The lJ.ecuniary c ha r acter or relationships, eithe r OIJ4l:nl y or co ncea led ill a tht)UI~and (o rlllll, pined [0] .. . (unclionw dis tance belween people I.hnl is IlII inner prOlectiOIl . . . agu ins t the overcrowded pro,umity." Ct."Or g S imnl t'l. Philosophie de. GeWe~ (uip'lig, 19(0). p. 514 .06 (M17.2]
Prologue to Le Ftanellr, newspaper for the masses, published at the office of the town crier, 45 Rue dc la H arpe (the first and, no doubt, only number, dated May 3, 1848): "To go out strolling, these days, while puffing one's tobacco, ... while dn=anling of evening pleasures. seems to us a century behind the times. ~ are not the son to ~fuse all knowledge of the CUSLOtnS of anothu age; but, In our strolling, let us not forget our rights and our obligations as citizens. The times are necessitous; they demand all our attention, all day long. Let ~ be ~eurs, but pattiotic Baneurs." (J. Montaigu). An early ~pecim.en of ~at dislocanon of word and meaning which belongs among the deVlces ofJoumalism. (MI7,3] Balzac aOllcdote; " He wall with a friend olle da y whcn he puu ed a beggar in rags On the IJOuJevartl. !:lis compallion ""'1118 8stolli8hed to lee Babac to uch m. own s!ef:ve with hill h alul ; he h all jusl felt th .. re thecllllspicuo us rip that gaped a t the elbow o( the m.. odicant.,. Allatole Cerfberr a nll J well Christuphe. Reper-lOire de to ComMie humaine de H . de Balzac ( Pari. , 1887). p . viii (Introduction by Paul Bourget).
[MI"Z4] '
Apropos of Haubert's remark that "observation is guided above all by ima~' tion,"17 the visionary faculty ofBa1za.c: "It is imponant to not~ first of all, ~t this visionary power could never be exercised dirr:ctly. Ba1z.ac did no~ have ~ to live; ... he did not have the leisure ... to study men, after th~ fas~on of ~olitre and Saint-Simon, through daily. familiar contact. H e cut ~ CXlSteno: 1Il twO, writing by night, sleeping by day" (p. x.). Balzac speaks of a retrospecDve penetration." "Il would seem that he took hold of the givens of experience ~d then tossed them. as it were, intO a oucible of dn=ams." A. Cerfberr and J. Christop~e, RiPertoiTl'de fa Cmnidi~ numain~ de H. de Balzac (Paris, 1887), p. xi (Introducoon by Paul Bomstt).
IMI1.,I }
Empathy with the commodity is fundamentally empathy with exchange valU~ ketI itself. TIle Bineur is the virtuoso of this cmpad.1Y.. H e takes the concept of ability itself for a stroll. J ust as his final ambit IS the department store, his las . 3Jilaoon . .I.S ... [MI7a,2] IIlC Ule san d WI·c1I-man.
m:u-
1.11 II hra!iSI'ri.. in IJle \'icinil v uf tim Cll rc . E I J . to bc Ii I rea J YIII ' U ltllll .
Sllinl~I..II"l.IIn:, d"1; Euci nles (I'd s hilliself (Mlla,3)
Regarding the intoxication of empathy felt by the 8llneur. a great passage from F1aubert lOay be adduced. It eould we.ll date from the period of the composition of Madam~ BOllary: "Today, for instance, as man and ""Oman, both lover and mistress, 1 rode in a forest on an autumn afternoon under the yellow leaves, and 1 was also the horses, the leaves, the wind, the ""Ords my people uttered, even the red sun that made them almost dose: their love-drowned eyes."~ Cited in H enri Grappin, "Le Mysticismc poetique (et l'imagination> de Gustave Flaubcn," Rt:~ [llJt (It Paro (December 15, 1912), p. 856. [M17a,41
On the intoxication of empathy felt by the Haneur (and by Baudelaire as well), this passage from Flaubert : "-1 see myself at different moments of history, very clearly. ... 1 was boatman on the Nile, leno [procurer] in Rome at the time of the Punic wars, then Greek rhetorician in Suburra, where I was devoured by bedbugs. J died, during the C rusades, from eating too many grapes on die beach in Syria. I was pirate and monk, mountebank and coadunan-perhaps Emperor of the East, who knows ?"~ Grappin, "Le Mysticisme poetique <et I'imagination> de Gustave Flaubert," &vut: de Paris (Ikcember 15, 1912), p. 624. [M 17a.SI
Ilell is II d lY mu ch like LondonA popul ollll aJld a ~D1o ky eily; Ther1! ar1! all tol1.il 1)Wllle I&n(\onll, And the re i51iltJeur nu rlln do ne; Smllll jll.5lice ~JlOwn . aud 81ilJ telll pity.
or
II T hCr1! it II Cu Ue , and
II Cln ning. A Col,ile u . an d a CII~tl f'reagh; AU IIOrt. or cai tiff CO '1"lel plannillg Al l so rb of eozeninll; for t~pannin g CO TJ)~t... le~8 currlllUlhan tltey.
UI
There il a * •• , wl,u bu lOl!l lli~ ,,·il., or ....1<1 1.llem. none knnwll which: lie ... alk~ abuu l 11 duuljlll fo;hu! l, An,.! 1II0IIgh as Illill ill, f'rau,1 a lmO~I E v~r grow8 Inore grim allli rich . IV
1'hen- is a Cl,anccry COllrt ; a ki ns; A maIlUfU(" llIri"l!" moll: a H I
or Ihie ,'~ who loy 1.lu': mMlvl'8 Ilrt" $i",,1 Similar lhieve!! 10 r"pre8t'nl ; An II I'm)'; IIml li IllIhli,- .11:111.
v
Ti.. ~ot , ill jll ~ tifyill g hi AprO I)O~u lt o lax luxury hor8e~: " The inlolt'ra hle noille made ilay ltnd nigh t b y tWI:llly Iho ll ~u lIIl priva te ,:arriagcII in the st reets of Parill, the cVlltiJllliI1 s hu kin!; of Ihe h OIl!!('ji. Ihc inconve.nience find insomnia lha t result for 110 In !lll~' inhabi t a nts of Ihe cil y- aJlthi8 de8erve8 some cumpellsation ." .AmEtloo de 'rissul, I·flri.~ el l.omlre, eomJJf.r~$ (Pllri8, 1830), 1111. 1i2-173, {M 18a,2]
WI,icll III~ ILB M~ch cll1O:: of ,u' lle r mo ney, An.1 III("H nll--l.ci ng int erp N: LM ·"B,:o'a. kl'i' l' yon r wllx-give U8 tJu~ hQl,e,.. ,\ 1111 we will "h.nl , ..·hil" dUu are I UDO )', F1o..·.. r"'. whieh in wi nter I!r.n "" insle.d ,'·
Tltt' HUlII'ur lind til{' ijltoprrollts: "Firij t of uU, the .... a re the f1 iine uNi of the bouleVllrt!, ",·b"lie e ntirt' exislence unIol1ls h etwC'!C.n t.lle C hu reh of the Madeleine a nd t he Th;;lill't: (Iu G)' n!lI a ~. Eal'h d ay set'ti tlu' n! rtturninS to thill na.rrow space, wruc h Ihey n.'\·,'r palJ .. beyond . examining the tlis plllYs or goods , s l1rVeying the shoppers St'lIlcd hcforc tilt· ,loonJ of cafill. ' , . T hey wo uld be able to teU you if Go upil or Ucrorgt.' l.a ve pu l out a ne"" print or a Dew painting. a nd if Barbedie nne has 1-e)Jositionellli vase II r 1111 IIrra llg,: ml'.lIt ; they know aU til e IJhotographers' 8Iudios by hellr t II IH I couJ.! rerile the. se
VI There is a gna t talk or revolution-
Anti .
~ru l
ehancll or de!lpoliam-
~rman 6Ghlie~lI m ~onru.sion
Tumull&-Ioli triu-rlll!e--dclusionGin-t!uicide-a nd mclbOllil!m;
VII 1'4l1ie8 1ot), o n ",i nc lind Lread.
Ami meal. 8ml hec r. and tCli, lind c111~"se. FrolU whic h those Ila inuis pure a re fed. Who go rg" I II~f"rtl Ihey rceltu bed
TIUi tenfold
t:SIIe l1ce
On me provincial character of "Des Vcuers Eckfenster." "Since that unfortunate
of aU Ihe8e.
period whcn illl insolent and overbearing enemy inundated our country," the Berlin populace has acquired smoother manners. ")Ou see, dear cousin, how nowadays, by contrast, the m arket offers a delightful picture of prosperity and peaceful manners:' E. 1: A. H offmarul. AUJgewiihlle &hrj/ltn, vol. 14 (Stuttgart, [839), pp. 238, 240." [M19,11
IX l.awyen-judgl!f---Old hohno('ben Are LIII'rn--hailiff5-('I," llceUor_ Bi5bol",--grt.a1 81111 lillie robber_ Rhynle8ter_ lIamIIMClL"l::r1I---1Ilock-jobm:n~"'n of glorr in tim " '11111.-
1be sandwich'man is the last incam.ation of me 8aneur.
On the provincial character of "Des Vetters Ec.kfenster": the cousin wants to teach his visitor "the rudinlcms of the an of secing."'f3 [M 19,3}
x T luuJtii " 'IK>l
To lea n, Il nd flirt , and 8lare. and 8im l~r. Till . 11 th ai ill di\'inll in wn maJl
Grow, ~rulli. e"urt~u~, ~mooth , inliuman, Crud JieJ ' twixt a , mile IInti a ,.-himpe r, S helley, " ' )N,' r Hdl L1w Third" (" Pilr t the Third: He U").oo
[MI9,2}
[M ISI
0 11 July 7. 1838, C. E. Guhrauer wriles 10 Varliliagen aLolII Heine: " Be wal ha\'ing a Lad lime ,..ilb hilJ eye, ill the 8pring. 011 o ur la81 meeting, I accompanied him pari of t he ,,'ar alou l': the boulevllrd . T he s plendor and vitality of thai unique 8treet nloveJ me to houndle88 II dmiratioll , wlliJe , againsl llLis. Heine now laid "'ci!;hl)' e mJ)h as i ~ VII Ihe borrors IIl1elldilig lhill ccuh:r of the world ." Conlpare al80 Engf'ls U ll th e ITIIW, I ~M5I1 , I >. Heinrich ll l!im· . Ge.tl lriiche, ed . Hugo Bieber (Ber~ lill. 11)2(,). p . 163.
illuminating for L11e conception of the cro......d : in "Des Vcncrs Eckfenster" <My Cousin's Comer Wmdow), the visilor still thinks that the cousin watches the activity in the marketplace only because he enjoys the play of colors, And in the long run, he thinks. this will surely become tiring, Sinlllarly, and at around the same time. Gob'Ul writes. in "The Lost Letter," of the illUlUal fair in Konotop: "There were such crowds moving up and down me streets tllat it made one giddy to watch mcm.~ RUJJiJcht GeiPrIlJ/"-Gtsdlichlen (Munich d92h), p. 69.~1 jMI8a.l]
[MI9,"}
" T lu!! o;i ly lIla rk e41 h y II \'it a ljty, Ii cir~lIllIlitln . lin a ctivit)' ""ithoul equal is a illu, by ;, ~illgIlJ
IJt'~d Wriling fro m Pllris tn hi!; wife. Scpl ~lIIht'r 3, 18:.!i: "As I gu thro ugh the ~ Ir"t · l,;. till' ""oplc lu(,k jU';1 II", !l lI m c 118 in He rlin. everyone tlrellsed the sa me,
ahout t he 8 1lm~ fo.l 'eil . thc lIaml ' appcurauce, ),(:1 in Ii IJOpuluus muU ." Briefe lion "."/ ~ I Karlll ,-,d It..;"zi, . 18K7). purt 2 . p . 257 (lVerkf'. vol. 19 , part 1m. / I I // " ... . " ' . ' . . [lI.119 ,61 " 2" M
Londres (London>
h is an immense place, and so spread out 111011 it takes a day to cross it by onuuhw. And, far and wide, thert is nothing LO see Bm houses, public buildings, and high mOllunlcnts. Set down haphazardl)' by the hand of time. Long black dUInncys, the stt:eples of industry, Opm thdr mouths and c.,xhalc fun~ From their hot bdlies [0 the open au; Vast white domes and Gothic spires Hoot in the vapor above the heaps ofbriclu. An eve.r sv.-clling, unapproachable: ri~r. Rolling its muddy currents in sinuous onrush, Uk.e that frightful Stream of the undcrwo~ld.f>! And ~d O\'cr by gigantic bridges on pu~n 'That mimic the old Colo!u US of Rhodes, AllOWJ thousands of ships 10 ply their way; A great tide polluted and always unsettled lkcircu1ates the riches of the world. Busy stockyards, ofl('n shops are ready -10 receive a universe: of goods. Above, the sk.y tormeilted, cloud upon clo~d , The Stu\, like a corpse, wears a shroud on Its face, Or, sometimes, in the poiwnou5 aDuosphert, Loolu out like a miner coal-blackened. ll1CfC, amid the somber mass of things, An obscure people li\'eS and dies in silenccMillions of bcings in thr.ill to a fatal iustinct, Seeking gold by avenues devious and straight.
" Lomlon Bridge." "A little while ago I was Yo'lll.kiJlg Ilcrou London Bridge and I paused ItI contemplate what is for me an elldJess plessure--the sight of II ricb, thi(~k , IJomp!e,.; waterway whose na creo u ~ ~h eets and oily patches_ cJuuded with ,,·hite snlOke*puf(s , are louded with a confmiou of s hips .. . . I !ellued upon my dllllws . .. . Delight of vision held me with II ravenous thi n l , involved in the Illay of a light of inexhaustiLle riehnesM. But endJeuly pacing and ftowingat my back I was aware of another river, a r ive r of the blind eternally i.n purs uit of [ its] immediate material ObjC4:t. This seemed to me no crowd of indh'idual hein!!:s, each with his OW II his tory. his priva te god. hill trell8u reil and hia scar~. his interior monologue and ltiBfat e; rather I made of it- unconsciolhlly, in the depths uf my body, ill the shaded places of nl y cyes--u. flux of identical particlel. equally sucked in by the ,ame nameless void, their deaf headlo n!!: CUT rtlnt IIllltering monotonously over the bridge. Never "a" e I so fd t 8ol.itude, minglt!tl with pride and allguish ." Paul Valfry, CIIO&e& llUe'I d'aris, 1930). pp. 122-124,611 [M20,2]
10 be compared with Baudelaire's review of Barbier, his portrayal of Mc,]'on, ~e pcxms of "Tableaux parisieus." IJl Barbier's poetry. twO dements-the d~,:, cion" of the great city and the sociaJ unrest-should be pretty .mu~ dis . h d Onl traces o f these elements still ~main with Baudel:ure, tn wholD guISe . y ' dl Aguste they have beell joi.ned to an altogether hetcrogeneous t.hir e e~ent. u e seBarbier, l amhts rI jJOOneJ (Paris. 1841 ), pp. 193- 194. TIle poem IS fro~1-I~9a, lJ quence L milrt of 1837. If one compares Baudelaire·s discussion of Meryo n with Ba~bic~'s. "Lond:~ one asks o neself whcthcr the gloomy image of the Mm?st disqUle~lg dO~ ~e tals ""L-the image. that is, of paris-was no t very m:nenally dcte.rn~m~ y trial texts of Barbier and of l:UC. London was certainly ahead of Pans U1 llldus "I devd opnlclll.
Beginning of Rousst:au's Second Promenade: "H aving therefore decided to de' scrilx my habirual state of mind in this, the strangest siruation which any mortal will ever know, I couJd think of no simpler or su~r way of carrying out my plan th.11l to keep a faithfu1l'ecord of my solitary walks and the ~veries that occupy dIem. when I give f~e rein to my thoughts and let my ideas follow their natural course, unrestricted and unconfined. These bours of solitude and meditation aK the o nly ones in the day when I am completdy myself and my own master; with nothing to distraCt or hindcr me. the oruy oncs when 1 can truly say that I am what nature m eant me to lx." J can:Jacques Rousseau, us RWuies du promt:1leur Jo/ilaire; p~ceded by Di:c ]OIm Ii Ennt:1lonlJille, by Jacques de LacreteUc (Paris, 1926), p. lS.t7- The passage p~sents the integral link between contemplation and idleness. What is decisive is that Rousst:au already-in his idlencss-is e1u0ying himself, but has not yet accomplished the turning outward. [M20,1]
tMI9a , ~
Basic to IUIIerie, among other things, is the idea that the fruits of idleness are more precious than the fruits of labor. TIlc Haneur. as is ":c11 known, makes "studies." On this subject, the nineteenth-.:cnrury Laroussc has the following to say: "J-lis eyes open, his ear ready, searching for something entirely different from wha t the crowd gathers to see. A word dropped by chance will reveal to him one of those character traits that cannot be invented and that must be drawn directly from life : .thosc physiognomies so naively attenuve will furnish the painter with thc expressio n he was dreaming of; a noise, insignificant to every other ear. will strike that of the musician and give him the cue for it harmonic combinacion; cvell fo r the thinker, the philosopher lost in his reverie, this cxternal agitation is profitable: it SUI'S up his ideas as the stoml stirs the waves of the sea .... Most nlcn of genius ,",,'Cre grea t flaneurs-but industrio us, productive B:ineurs . . .. O ften it is when the artist and the poet seem least occupied ....ith their work that they arc most profoundly absorbed in it. In the firs t years of this ccntury. a man was Sc.":en walking each and every day-regardless of the weather, be it sunshine Or snow-around the ramparts of the city of Vienna. TIlls man was Beethoven,
who, in the midst ofhis wanderings, ","'Quid work out his magnificent sympbonies in his head before putting them down on paper. For him, the ","'Qrld no longer aisted: in vain would people greet him respeCtfully as he passed. H e saw nothing; his mind was elsewhere:' Pierre Larousse, Grand Diclionnairl: IIn;lXnt:i (Paris <1872», vol. 8, p. 436 (article cntitled, "Flaneur"). [M20a,1] Beneath the roufllo£ Puris; "i hclOe " ari8ian lO avuJlnuh, cOllsisting of roof, leveled out to (tlrm II plain , h ut coveri ng ubys8e1l h."Cming with population. ,. Bal:r.uc, La Peou de chagrin. cd. F1ammarion. p. 95.11¥ T he tmd of II long descri ption IIf the roof-land8c8 1>e8 of PliriS. IM20a,2] Description of the crowd in Pro list : ..AJJ thesc pCIITllc whu puced " I' and dowo the seawall promenade. tacking as violently as if it had ],t.."C1I lhe deck of II ship (for they cOllld lIut Lift a leg without a l the same lime waving t he ir arlll.~ , tu r oing their head! and eyes . &euling their 8hou lder 8. compensating by II balancing movemenl on one 8ide for the movement they had jusl mlltlt~ fi n the other, and puffing oul their faces), aud who, pretending not to see 80 as tn let it be thought that they were 1I0t interested . ],111 covertl y ....atclling. for fear of nnmillg wgain8t tile people who were walking bc~ id e or coming towordli lhem, did. in fa ct, butt iuto them, became eutllDgied with tllem, becallse each wa s mutuaUy tllC ohjeci of the ~a me leeret attention veiled bencath the su me 81ll'a.rcnt dil!dain : their \O"e-and CODStl
The critique of the J(ou'I.H!lkJ Huloiw l:xtraordinaim which Armand de Pont· martin publishes in Le Sptclattur of September 19, 1857, contains a sentence that, although aimed at the overall character of the book. would nevertheless have its rightful place in an analysis of the "man of the crowd": "It was certainly there in a striking fornI, that implacable democratic and American se:verity, reckoning human beings as no more than numbers, only to end by attributing to numbers something of the life, animation, and spirit of tile humall being." But doesn't the scntence havc a more immediate reference to the H U/(liru tx/raordinainJ, which appeared earlier? (And where is "thC' man of the crowd"?) Baudelaire, OtuureJ lomplilu, TranslatiollS, XoulXllu Hu/oireJ ~xtraordi1U1im, ed. Crepet (Paris. 1933). p.315.-The critique is, at bottom, mean-spirited. (M2 I ,2] The "spirit of noctambulism" fin ds a placc in Proust (WIder a difTercm name): ';The capricious spirit that sometimes leads a woman of high rank to say to herself 'What fun it will be!' and then to end her evening in a deadly tiresome manner, getting up enough energy to go and rouse someone, remain a while by the bedside in her evening wrap, and finally, finding no thing to say and noticing that it is very late, go home to bed." Marcel Proust, U "Umpj rdrourX (Paris). vol. 2, p. 185.11 [M21a, l]
'1l1~ most ~a~cteristie building projects of the nineteenth century- railroad stallOns, exhibJC~n ~, deparonent stores (according to Giedion) -alI have malters of coUecuvc unportancc as their object. The O§neur feels drawn to these: ~ despiscd , C'vcryday" strucrun:s, as Giedlon calls tllem. In these constructions masses o.n ~e s~gc- of history was already foreseen: the appearance: of l11cy fOln} the ccccntnc frame WIthin which the last privateers so readily displayed themselves. (See KIa,S.) [M21a,2]
sn=a:t
N [On the Theory of Knowledge, Theory of Progress] TUlle:! are more interesting than people. -Honor~
de Balzac, CritiqUt lifth-aire, Illtroduction by Lou4 Lumc:t (Paris. 1912), p. 103 (Cuy de la Ponnerart'. Hisll1in tk l'Amj,aJ
The refoml of consciousness consists lokt, in ... the awakening of the world &om its dream about itsc:lf. - Karl Marx. lkr hiJloriJck .J.,IQlma/WnuJ : Dit FriiW rifi(ll. (Leipzig <1932» . vol. I, p. 226 (lener from Mane: to RuS'!; Kreuunach, Septcmba 1843)'
In the fields with which we are concerned, knowledge comes only in lightning \ fiashes. The text is the long roU of thunder that follows. [Nl,l} Comparison of other people's attempts to the undenaking of a sea voyage in which the ships are drawn off course by the magnetic North Pole. Discover this Nonh Pole. What for others are deviations are, for me, the data which determine
my course.-On the differentials of time (which, for others, disturb the main lines of the inquiry), I base my reckoning.
[Nl ,2]
Say something about the method of composition itself: how everything onc is thinking at a specific moment in time must at all COSts be incorporated intO the project then at hand. Assume that the intensity of the project is thereby attested, or that one's thoughts, from the very ~ginnillg, bear this project within them as their tdos. So it is with the present portion of the work, which aims to characterize and to preserve the intervals of reBection, the distances lying between the most esscntial parts of this work, which are nuned most intensively to the out·side. [Nl ,3]
A pa~ ofBcnjamin 's mauwcript, showing th(: beginning of Cou\"O!ute N.
1Illde.rgrowth of delusion and myth. 1b..is is to be accomplished here for the terram of the ninetcelll.h century. [N I ,4]
-nlcse
To cultivate fields where. until now, only madness has reigned. Forge ahead with the whetted axe of reason, looking neither right nor left so as not to sucrumb to the horror that beckons from deep in the primeval forest. Every ground must at some point have been made arabic by reason, must have been cleared of the
nOles devoted to the Paris arcades were begun under an open sky of cloudless blue that arched above the foliage ; and yet-owing to the millions of leaves th!lt wt:re visited by the fresh breeze of diligence, the stenorous breath of the researcher, ~le storm of youthful zeal, and the idle wind of ruriosiry-they've been covered with the dust of centuries. For the painted sky of summer that looks
down from the arcades in the reading room of the Bibtiotheque Nationale in Paris has sprf:ad Ollt over them its dreamy, wIlit ceiling. [N I ,S]
TIle pamos of this work: there are no periods of decline. Altcmpt to see the
I
J
nineteenth century JUSt as positively as I tried to sce. the seventeenth, in the work 011 1TGlim pid. No belief in periods of decline. By !.he same loken, every ciry is beautifill LO me (from outside its bordcrs),jusl as aU t.-uk of particular languages'
having greater or lesser value is
10
me unacceptable.
[N1,6)
And, later, the glassed-in spot facing m y seat at the Staatsbibliothek. C harmed circle inviolate. virgin terrain for the soles of figures I conjured. [N l ,7]
Pedagogic side: of this undertaking: "To educate the image-making medium within us , raising it to a stereoscopic and dimensional seeing into the depths of historical shadows!' The words art Rudolf Borchardt's in Fpilegomma ttl Dank, vol. I (Berlin. 1923). pp, 56-57. (N'.8) Delimitation of the tendency of this project with respect to Aragon : whereas Aragon persists within the realm of dream, here the con cern is to find the constellation of awakening. 'While in Arab'Oli there remains an impressionistic element, namely the "mythology" (and this impressionism must be held responsible for the many vague philosopheIlles in his book) ,~ here it is a question of the dissolu· , tion of "m ythology" intO the space of history. That, of course, can happen only through lhe awakening of a not-yet-conscious knowledge of what has been. (N1.9]
This 'work has to develop to the highest d egree the art o f citing without quotation
marks. Its theory is intimately related to that of mo ntage.
(NI, tO]
"Apart from a certain haul-golit chaml," says Giedio n, "tlle artistic draperies and wall-hangings of the previous ce.ntury have come to se~ musty:' digfried> Giedion, Bauen in Fra1lli.re£cn (Leipzig and Berlin <1928)). p. 3. ~, however. believe that the ehann they exercise o n us is proof that these things, too. contain material of vital importance for us- not indeed for our building practice, as is the case with the constructive possibilities i.nherem in iron frameworks, but rather for ()ur understanding, for the radioscopy, if you will, of the situation of the bo~ geois elass at the moment it evinces tlle first signs of decline. In any case. matcnal ()f vital inlportance politically; this is demonstrated by the attachment of the Surrealists to tllese things. as much as by their exploitation in contemporary fashion. III o ther words: just as Giedion teacllcs us to read off the basic features of today's archiu::clUre in tlle buildillb"S erected around 1850, we. in tum. would n:i:ogn.ize lOehy's life. tOday's fo m ts, in the life and in dle apparently secondary. lost fOnIts ofl.ha t epoch. [Nl,l1]
''In the windswept $tallways o f the EUfel Tower, or. better still, in the st«:1 sup'"
ports o f a Pont Trarubordeur, o ne meets with the fu ndamenraJ aesthetic experience of present-day architecture: through dle dUn net of iron that hangs suspended in the air. things stream-ships. ocean, houses, masts, landscape, batbor. They lose their distinctive shape, swirl into o ne another as we climb downwa:cI, merge simultaneously." Sigf~ed ?iedion, Bauen in Fra1lli.reicn (Leipzig and Berlin), p. 7. in the same way, the histonan today has only to creCl a slender but sturd y scaffolding-a philosophic structure-in o rder to draw the most vital aspens o f the past into his net. But JUSt as the m agnificent vistas of the city provided by the new construction in iron (again, see Giedion, illustrations on pp. 61-63) for a lo~g time were ~rved exclusively for the workers and engineers, so too the philosopher who WLShes here to gamer fresh perspectives must be someone immune to vertigo-an independent and, if need be, solitary" worker. [N1a,1] The book on the Baroque exposed the seventeenth century to the light of the present day. Here, something analogous must be done for the nineteenth century, but with greater distinctness. [Nla,2] Modest methodological proposal for the a.UwrnJ·rustorical dialectic. It is very easy to establish oppositions, according to determinate points of view, within the various "6elds" of any epoch, such that on one side lies the "productivc:," "forward-looking," "lively," "positive" part of the epoch, and on the other side the abortive, retrograde, and obsolescent. The very contours of the positive element will appear distinctly only insofar as this element is set ofT against the negative. On the other hand, every negation has its value solely as background for the delineation of the lively, the positive. It is therefore o f decisive importance that a ne~ partition be applied to this initially excluded, negative component so that, by a displacement of the angle of vision (but not of the criteria!), a positive element emerges a.n~w. in it too-something different from that previously signified. And 50 on, ad infirutum, until the entire past is brought intO the present in a historical apocatastasis.1 [Nla,3) The.foregoing, put differently: the indestructibility of the highest life in all things. Agamsl the prognosticators of decline. Consider, tho ugh: Isn't it an affront to Goethe to make a film of Faust, and isn't there a world of difference between the poem RlUSI and the film Fau.st?YI=s, CCrtainlv. But agam' isn't there a whole world fd 'it ' • • o I c.rence between a bad 6lm of Faust and a good one? What matter are never tJu:~ "g!Tc'at " but o n Iy tI1e w "'aleCl.1cal ' contrasts, which often seem indistinguishable frolll nuances. It is nonetheless from them that life is always born anew. [NJa,4)
1~ ~ncompass both Breton and Le Corbusier- that would mean dr.twing the SPlnt of colltemponu), France like a bow, wid) which 1000wlcdge shoots the lllOment in the h eart. [NJa,5]
.1an lays bare the causal connection bct\\-'ttO economy and cu]ture, For us, what malleI'S is the thread of c:xpression. It is not the economic origins of culture that .....jJJ be presented, but the expression of the economy in its culture. At issue, in other words, is the attempt to grasp an economic process as perceptible U,.. phenomenon, from out of which proceed all manifestations of life in the aJ'Cades (and, accordingly. in the nineteenth century). [Nla,6]
TIlls research-which deals fundamentally with the expressive character of the earliest industrial products, the earliest industrial architecture, the earliest machines, but also lhe earliest department stores, advc.rtisemcnts, and so on- thus becomes important for Marxism in two ways. Hrst, it will demonstrate how the milieu in which Marx's doctrine arose affected that doctrine through its expressive character (which is to say, not only through causal connections) ; bUl. ~cond, it will also show in whaL respects Marxism, tOO, shares the expressive character of the material products contemporary with it. [N l a,71
c5 z
Method of this project: literary montage. 1 needn't Jay aJlything. M erdy show. I shall purloin no valuables, appropriate no inge~ous formulations. ~ ut the rags, the refuse-these I will no t inventory but allow, m the only way poSSible, to come intO their own: by making use of them [Nla.81
Bear in mind lhat commentary on a reality (for it is a question here of conunentary, of interpretation in detail) calls for a method completely. ~erent &:om~ required by commentary on a text. In the one case, the soenrific mamstay 11 theology; in the other case. philology.
[N2, l1
It Illay be considered one of the methodological objectives of this work to demonstrate a historical materialism which has annihilated within itself the idea of progress. Just here, historical materialism has every .reason to d~stinguish itSClf sharply from bourgeois habitS of thought. Its founding concept IS not progras _ but actualization. [N2,2] Historical "understanding" is to be grasped, ill principle, as an afterlife of that which is understood; and whal has been recognized in the analysis of the "afterlife of wor ks," in the analysis of "fame ," is therefore to be considered the foundatio n of hislory in generaL [N2,3]
How this work was wrilten : ~g by rung. according as chance wou~d offer : narrow foo thold and always Like someone who scales dangerous helghLS an • . di (b~ never allows himself a moment to look around. fo r fear of becoDllng uy . also because he would save for t.he cnd the full force of th e panorama operung c , __) [N' .' ) a u! to IW lI •
Overcoming the concept o f "P!"Ob'TCSs" and overcoming the concept of ~period of decline" are tWO sides of o ne aJld the same lhing. (N2,51
A cenrral problem of historical materialism that ought to be seen in the end: M ust the Marxist understanding of history necessarily be acquired at the e.xpense of the perceptibility of history? Or: in what way is it possible to conjo in a heightened grapJ.-ucnc:ss (AflJchlll~lir.hltn.'{) to !.he realization of ~arxist method? The \ first st:lge 1Il uus undertaking will be to carry over ule pnnelple of montage into history. Illal is. to assemble large·scale consrructions out of the smallest and most precisely cut components. Indeed, to discover in the analysis of the small individual Illoment the crystal of !.he total event. And, therefore, to break with wlgar historical naturalism_ To grasp the consrruction of history as such. In the structure of commentary. 0 Refuse of History [N2,6]
me:
a
;\ Kierkegaard citation ill Wiesengrund . with commentary fuUowing: "'One IWly arriYflllt Il similar consider ation of the mythical hy heginni ng wilh the imagi8tic. \t' hen. ill an age uf reflection , oue &eel the imagistic protrude ever 10 sligbdy and II n oh ~cryed ill a rd lective representa tion and , like 1111 amedi]uvian fossil, suge81 aJl o t1l1~r s pecies uf existence which washed away tlouhl , one will perhaps be UIlIUiIlCl1 thul the i.mage could ever ha ve pla yed such an importan t role.' Kie rkcgaanl ward, off the 'amazement' with what follows. Yet thill amuement heruI41s the deepest insighl iutu the iuter rdation of dia lectic, myth, and image. For it is lIul as the conlinuowlly li ving ami pr esent dlat natu re prevails ill the dialectic. i}iull'4:1ic cOllies 10 u stop ill the image, und , in the cOlltext of recent hinor y, it cites tI\l' my tbical as what ii long gone: lIatu n- a8 p rimal hiJl tory. For tills re:1t801l . the images-which . like tJI OSC of the interieur. hring dialectic and myth to the poinl of indiIfert-ntiUlion-a re tr uly 'antediluvian fossi l,. ' They may be called dialec:tical imugel. to UBC Benj amin 's ex p~8B i on , whose compelling defmitiol1 of ' aUe~ory' also III)I,IB t.rue for Kie rk e~aa rd '8 aUegorical intention ta ken as II figure of histori· CIl I llill icctic and mythical natu re. According to thiiJ definition . 'in allegor y the "ltscrvf'r is confrlJlltl'd with tJlt~ fa eie.f hippocro tico of history, a petrified IJrimordilllla ll,llOo:n pt:. " 'l'hw d or Wiescngrund-Adorno. Kierkegoard (Tilhingen. 1933). I)· 60.' 0 Refuse of History 0 [N2,7)
Onl)' a ulo ugtuless observer can deny that correspondences come into play between the world of modem technology and the archaic symbol-world of mythOlogy. Of course, initially the technologically new seems nothing more than t.h~1. But in the very next childhood memory, its traits are a\rc:ady altered. Every clliJ~hood achieves something great aJld irreplaceable fo r humanity. By the interest It takes in techno lobrical phenomena, by the curiosity it displays before any son or invention o r machinery, every childhood binds the accomplishments of teclUlology to ule old worlds of symbo l. There is nothing in the realm of nature ~1;1I from the o utset would be exempt fro m such a bond . Only, it takes form not In the aura of novelty but in the aura of the habitual. In memory, d Uld hood, and dream , UAwakening (N2i1, IJ
a
'111e mOmentuDl of primaJ histOry i.n the past is no lo nger masked, as it used to be, by the tradition of ch urch and family- this at once the consequence and
condition of technology. The old prehistoric dread already envelops the world of om parents because we o urselvcs are no longer bound to this world by tradition. The perceptual worlds <Merltwellrn> break. up more rapidly; what they contain of the mythic comcs more quickly and more brutally to the fore; and a wholly dilTerelll perceptual world must be speedily set up to oppose it. nus is how the accelerated tempo of technology appears in light of the primal history of the present. 0 Awakening 0 [N2a,2j It's nOt that what is past casts its light on what is present, o r what is present its light on what is past; rather, image is that wherein what has been comes together in a Bash with the now to fonn a constellation. In other words, image is dialectics at a standstill . For while the relation of the present to the past is a purely temporal, continuous one, the relation of what-bas-been to the now is dialectical: is nOI progression but image, suddenly emergem.-Only dialectical images are genuine images (that is, not archaic); and the place where o ne encowlters them is language. 0 Awakening 0 [N2a,3)
In studying Sinunel's presentation of Goethe's concept of truth,' I came to see very clearly that my concept of origin in the 1'rallmpitl book is a rigorous and decisive transposition of this basic Goethean concept from the domain of nature to that of history. Origin- it is, in effect, the concept of Ur-phenomenon ex· tracted fro m the pagan context of nature and brought into theJewish contexts of history. NQ\Y, in my work on the arcades I am equally concerned with fathoming an origin. To be speciEc, J pursue the origin of the forms and mutations of the Paris arcades from their beginning to their decline. and I locate this origin in the economic facts. Seen from the standpoint of causality, however (and that means considered as causes). these facts would not be primal phenomena; they become such o nly insofar as in their own individual devdopment- "unfolding" might be a better term-they give rise to the whole series of the arcade's concrete historical fonus. just as the leaf unfolds from itself all the riches of the empirical world of plants. [N2a,41 "A& I stud y this age which iii so dose to us and ~o remote, I compare myself to • surgeon operaling wilh loca lllllellthetic: I work in areaS Ihllt are numit . dead-yet the patienl it alive and can still tlllk. " Paul Morancl. 1900 (PUrill, 1931), I'p . 6-7. [N2a,5]
What distinguishes images from tile "cssences" of phenomenology is their historical index. (Heidegger seeks in vain to rescue history fo r phcnomeno~ogy absttactly through :O histo ricity."je These imagcs arc to be tho ught of enurely apart from the categories of the "human scienccs," from so-called habitus, from style, and the like. For the hislOIical index of the images nOt o nly says that they belong to a parocular time; it says, above all. that they attain 10 legibility onl~ at a particular time. And. indeed, this acceding "to legibility" cons titutes a specific critical point in the movement al their interior. Every present day is determined
by the images thaI are synchronic with it: cadl "now" is the. now of a paJ'ocular recognizability. In it, truth is charged to the bursting point with ome. (!his point of explosion, aJld no thing else, is the death of the inle"h'o, which thus coincides with the birth of authentic historical ome, the time of truth.) It is not that what is past ~ts its Ii~t on what ~ present. or what is present its light o n what is past; rather, una~ 15 that wherem what has be.en comes together in a flash with the nOW10 foml a constcllaUon. In other words : image is dialec.cics at a standstill. For while the relation of the present to the past is purdy temporal, the rdation of wh.'ll.~.been t~ the . no~ is dialectical:. not temporal in nature but figural ~ hildJiCh>. Only dialectJcal lJDages are genullldy historical-that is, not an:ha.icimages. The image that is n=ad-which is to say, the image in the now of its recognizability-bears to the highest degree the imprint of the perilous critical (N3, I) moment on which all reading is fo unded. Resolute refusal of the concept of "timeless truth" is in order. Nevenhcless, truth is n~t-as Marxism would ~ave it-a merely COlltingent function of knowing, but IS boWld to a nucleus of wne lying hidden within the knower and the known alike. 1bis is so true that the eternal, in any case, is far more the rume on a dress than some idea. [N3,2) Outline th~ story of 17/e Arcade; Project in terms of its development. Its properly problematJc component: the refusal to renoullce anything that would demon. strate the ~terialist .~resentation of history as imagistic
upon a tlme" of classical historiography. The history that showed thin&5 "as they n=ally Wett" was the strongest narcotic of the century. [N3,4J "The truth will not escape us," reads one of Keller's epigrams.' He thus formulates the concept of truth with which t11C:Se presentations take issue. [N3a,I) "Primal history of the nineteenth century"-this would be of no interest if it were
~ndcrstOod to m ean that forms of primal history arc to be recovered among the ~ ...entory of thc nineteenth century. Only where the nineteenth century would e rrcscmed as originary fonn of primal history-in a form, that is to say. in
whIch the whole ' aJ Iustory . . ill allew . . to tha . of p run b'TOuPS Its m.lJDages appropnate
I ctntury-only thcre does the concept of a primal history of the nineteenth centurt! ha . . I ve mearung. [N3a.2]
~ aWake~g perhaps the synthesis of dream consciousness (as thesis) and wakIllg Consciousness (as anritllcsis)? 1nen the mo ment of awakening would be
identicaJ with the "now of recognizability," in which things put on their truesurrealist-face. Thus, in Proust, the imponance of Staking an entire life on life's supremely dialecticaJ point of rupture: awakening. Proust begins with an evocation of the space of someone waking up. [N3a,3J
"If I insist on this mechanism of contradiction in the biography of a writer ...• it is because his train of thought cannOt bypass certain facts which have a logic different from that of his thought by itself. It is because there is no idea he adheres to that truly holds up ... in the face of certain very simple, elemental facts: that workers are staring down the barrels of cannons aimed at them by police, that war is threatening, and that fasci.sm is already enthroncd ... . It behooves a man, for the sake ofhis dignity, to submit his ideas to these facts, and not to bend these facts, by some conjuring trick, to his ideas, however ingenious." Aragon, " D~ fred de Vigny a Avdeenko; Commune,2 (April 20, 1935), pp. 808-809. But it is entirely possible that, in contradicting my past, I will establish a continuity with that of another, which he in tum, as communist, will contradict. In this case, with thc past of Louis Aragon, who in this same essay disavows his Pay.ran de Paris: "And, like most of my friends, I was partial to the failures, to what is monstrous and cannot survive, cannot succeed .... I was like them: I preferred error to its opposite" (p. 807). [N3a.4J In the diaJectical image, what has been within a particular epoch is aJways, simultaneously, "what has been from time inunemorial." As such, however, it is manifest, on each occasion, only to a quite specific epoch-namely, the one in which humanity, rubbing its eyes, recognizes just this particular dream image as such. It is at this moment that the historian takes up, with regard to that image, the taSk of dream interpretation. [N4,11 The expression "the book of natuJ"e" indicates that one can read the real like a text. And that is how the ~ality of the ninetemth cenrury will be treated here. W:: open the book of what happened. [N4,2]
renascences adopted as models. For the totality of Greek art never possessed a normative character; the renascences ... have their own proper history.... Only a historical analysis can indicate the era in which the abstract notion of a 'nOrm' ... of antiquity was born . ... This notion was created solely by the Renais· sance-that is, by primitive capitalism-and subsequently taken up by classicism, which .. . commenced to assign it its place in a historical sequence. Marx has not advanced aJong this way in tlle full measure of me possibilities of historical marerialism." Max Raphael. Proudnon. Marx. Pica.uo lParis (1933», pp. 178- 179. [N4.5] It is the peculiarity of technological fomlS of production (as opposed to an fornu) that their progress and their success are proportionate to the transparrncy of their social content_ (Hence glass architecture.)
[N4,6j
An important passage in Marx: "It is rec.ognized that where . .. the epic, for example, ' . . is concerned ... . certain significant creations within the compass of art art possible only at an early stage of artistic development. If this is the case with regard to different branches of art within the sphere of the arts, it is not so remarkable that this should aJso be the case with regard to the whole artistic realm and its relation to thc generaJ development of the society." Cited without references (perhaps 'fluIorien deJ MenrtlMrJs, vol. l ?)' in Max Raphael, Proudhon, [N4a. IJ Marx.. pj(.(1J.JQ (Paris <1933>), p. 160. The Marxian theory of art: one moment swaggering, and the next scholastic. [N4a,2]
ProposaJ for a grallation of the. 8ul){-ntruclure. in A. Asturaro , Ii materialismo storieD e 10 soc;utogia generale (Genoa , 11)04) {reviewed by Erwin SzaOO iu Die nelle Zeit , 23 , no. I (Stuttgart]. p. 62): " Economy. Family and kinship . Law. War. Politics. Moralily. Religion. Art . ~ieDce . '· [N4a,3}
Just as Proust begiru the story of his life with an awakening, so must e~ presentation of history begin with awakening; in fact, it should treat of nothing else. nus one accordingly, deals with awakening from the nineteenth cenrory.
Strange remark by Engels concerning the "social forces ": "But when once their nature is understood, they can, in the hands of the producers \\"Orking together, be transformed from master demons into willing servants." (I) Engds, Die Entwirltlung des Solia/ismuJ t/(m d" Utopi.e zur Wwen.sduifj (1882).' [N4a,4]
The realization of dream elements in the course of waking up is the canon of dialectics. It is paradigmatic for thetbinkcr and binding for the historian. [N4,4]
Mar x. in the uftcrwOI"l1 10 the lIecond editiolt uf DIU Kllpiwl : ·' Rcsca rch half In " I'propl·iat e [he material in d.;l nil , to ana lyze its \·ariOU8 forms of development , to Itllte nUl tllcir inller '·IIII11CClioli . Oul )' ufter this work is clOIle. call !.III' uc tuai 1I1U\":1l1l.: nt be. prf·lie nlc,1 ill cUI"r,·spoluling fa.~ hion . If thill i ~ don e~ lI ccl's~ fully. if the lif,. "f[llI· material j!l rdle""'d hac k iIiI 1,lcIII , [hell illllU Y appear 115 if we had beflJr~ tb Itn a Ilriuri I!O n6Inlt"tinll .'· Kllrl MllrJle. Oll.' KlIpi,al. vol I , cd . Kors('.h (Berlin dIJ32~) ~ p . 45.... [N4a,5J
,
[N4,3}
Raphael seeks to correct the Marxist conception of the normative character of Greek an: IIlf the normative character of Greek art is ... an explicablc fact of history, ... we will have ... to dctennine ... what special conditions led to each rcnascence and, in consequence, what special factors of ... Grttk art these
The partirular difficuJty of doing historical research on the period following the close of the eighteenth century will be displayed. With the rise of the mass. circulation press., the sources become irulUmerable. [N4a,6]
holds ror law and religion holds for culture even more. It would be absurd for US to conceive of the classless society, its fonDS of existence, in the image of cuJtu.ra.I humanity. [N5,4)
Mjcheici is Ik.rfectl y willing to lei the people be knowll as " barbariQlIs." "; Bar. burioIl8.' I like the word . and I accept the term ." And he says of their wrilers: "Their IOl'e is boundless ami 80metimcll too grea l, for they may d evole Ihcmselve8 to details wilh Ihe delightfulawkwardne!l!l of Albrecht DUrer, or with the exceuive ,)olisia of J ean-J acques Rousseou , who d0e8 llol concea.l his a rt ellough; and b y thU minute deLaii they compromi8e.th e whole. We. musl nOI hlame them 100 mu.;h . It La ... the luxuriance of their u p allil vigor.. , . Thi8 8ap wanll to give ever ything at once--Ieaveil . fruit. and flowe u; il bend8 nnd twislI the hranches. Tbese defeell of many grt:al workeu arc of len found in my books, which laek their good qualitie8. No matter!" J . M..icheJet , Le PeufJle (Paris. 1846) , pp. xxxvi-xxxvii. It [N5,1)
" Our eI~t' l itl" r ry must he: f{t'form of cO IISeiOIl Mf'~8 11(\1 til rough dogma!!. hut tllr fl ll~h Ihe u"alysid of mrSlkA I ~tJlI lIdotl 8 'h~lf~ thnl i ll llll cl~u r to illidf. whether it IIppi'uri ill II religious or II )lulitil-lI 1 form . Then l"H!o ple will $ee tha i the wO!·ld haa IUllg pOB!;essed Ihe (Ircam !If II thing- and lhlll it olil y lI l'ed~ 10 po;;~CIIs Ihe consd U\l ~ lleU of Ihili lhin(; ill ortll'r n 'all y Itl lJ08seu it :' Karl Marx. Der hiuoruche M(J,crifl/i~mlls : Die FriihscllrijlCJI . ed . LundshUI 1tllilMayer (Leipzig ( 1932» ). \'01. I. PI" 22(.....227 (Iettt·r from Ma rx 10 Ru ge; Krellzenuch . Septemb er 1843). It
Lener from Wiesengrund of August 5, 1935 : "The attempt to reconcile your 'dream' momentum-as the subjective element in the dialectical image-with the: conception of the latter as model has led me to some formulations . .. : With the vitiation of their use value, the alienated things are hollowed out and, as ciphers, they draw in meanings. Subjectivity takes possession of them insofar as it invests them with intentions of desire and fear. And insofar as defunct things stand in as images of subjective intentions, these latter present themsdves as immemorial and eternal. Dialectical images are canstellated between alienated things and incoming and disappearing meaning, are instantiated in the moment of indiffel\ \ cnce between death and meaning. While things in appearance are awakened to what is newest, death transforms the meanings to what is most ancient." Wtth regard to these reSections, it should be kept in mind that, in the nineteenth century, the number of "hollowed-out ~ things increases at a rate and on a scale that was previously unknown, for technica.l progress is continually withdrawing newly introduced objects from circulation. [N5.2J "The critic can start from any form of theoretical or practical consciousness, and develop out of the actual forms of existing reality the true reality as what it ouglu to be, that which is its aim." Karl Marx, Dn' hiJlorische MaterialiJmUJ: Die Friill· Jchnjlen, ed. Landshut and Mayer {Lcipzig (1932» , vol. 1, p. 225 Oetter &om Marx to Ruge; Kreuzenach, September 1843).'1The point of departure invoked here by Marx need not nece.ssari.ly connect with the latest stage of development. It can be undertaken with regard to long·vanished epochs whose "ought to be" and whose aim is then to be presented-not in reference to the next stage of development, but in its own right and as prefonnation of the fin al goal of history. [N5.3]
[N5a,l )
,
A reconciled humanity will take leave of its past-and olle fonn of reconciliation is gaiety. "The present German regime .... the nullity of the ancien rtgime exhibitc:d for all the world to set, ... is only the comedian of a world order whose r~al hfflJeJ are dead. History is thorough, and passes through many stages when she carries a worn-out fonn to burial. The last stage of a world-historical form is its comedy. The gods of Greece, who had already been mortally wounded in the Prornelheu..s BOI/Tld of Aeschylus, had to die yet again-this time a comic death-in the dialogues of Lucian. Why does history follow this course? So that mankind may take leaVl: of its past gaily.tI Karl Marx, Du hiI/orisck Ma/crialiImUJ: au FrUMchnjlat, ed. Landshut and Mayer (Leipzig), vol. 1, pp. 268 ("Zur Kritik der Hegelschen RechlJphilfJSophie").ll Surrealism is the death of the nineteenth century in comedy. [N5a,2] ~b rx (MtlrX lind
Engeb iiber F'ellerbacll : Aus dem Nach/rlu, Marx· Euge.la Archil', vol. I [Fra nkfurl tUIl Main ( 1928)] , p . 30 1): '"Therl'" is no history ofpolitic8. law. .IIcience., t'" tc., of art , religion. e l c:'I~ [N5a,3] Die heilige fo·umilit'. on thl'" s ubject uf Bacon's materialis m: " Matter, s urrounded by a S(' 1l8U OU a I'IJt!tic gillmur, SI'elllS 10 IIltraCI man 's wlltlle elllilY wilh winning Iihliles:' 11 [N5aAJ " 1 regret ha,·ing Ireatc(1 in only 1.1 \'er y illcom pletr ma nlier those facts of dail y t'Xisleno:e--foo!l, ciOlbing, s hch('r, family roulin e~. eivil law. ~' rl: a li on , social ....lutiOIl:!--·witirh IUlve nlwa ys lJL'C1I of prime COllce ru ill Iht" lift: of II.... grea l majorit y uf illllh·icluill~." C hal·Il'~ SeignoiJoil. lJ;stoire sincere de In 1I (I,iim /rfllu;tJ;se I Pll r i~. '1933). " . xi. [N5a.51
Ad notam a fornlula ofVaUry 's: "What distinguishes a truly general phenomeis its fertili ty.~ " [N5a,6]
11011
Engels says (Marx und ETlgelJ ii!Mr m erhoch: AUJ tb:m Ntuhla.u, Marx·Engels Archiv, ed. Rjazanov, vol. 1 [Frankfurt am Main (1928~ I, p. 300): "Il must not be forgotten that law has just as liltle an independent history as rcligion."ll What
Barbarism lurks in the ver)" concept of cultUl"t"!- as the concept of a fund of values which is coll..~idered indepcndem not, indeed, of lhe production process in which
these vruues originated, but of the one in which they survive. In this way they serve the apotheosis of the latter ("'"Oro uncertain>, barbaric as it may be. (N5a,7]
To determine how the concept of culture arose, what meaning it has had in different periods, and what nec:ds its instirution corresponded to. It could, insofar as it signifies the sum of;jcultural riches," tum o ut to be of recent origin ; certainly it is not yet found , for example, in the cleric of the early Middle Ages who waged his war of annihilation again..! the teachings of antiquity. [N6, 1] MicheJet-an aulhor who, wherever he is quOted, makes the reader forget the book in which the quotation appears. [N6.2] To be wlderlined: the painstaking delineation of the scene in the first writings on socia] problems and charity, like Naville, De fa Charitlligale; Fregier, Da Claues do.ngereuses; and various others. (N6.3)
" I callnot imillt too 8trongly on the facl that , for an enlightened nlateriolisl like. Larorgue, economio dcterminillm iK1I0t the ' absolutely perfeci illKlruDlCllt' which 'can provide the key to aU the problems of his tory. ' " An~l re DrctolJ. PosiluJII poUtique du sUrri!ali.sme (Paris <1935» , Pl'. 8-9. [N6,4)
All historical knowledge can be represented in the image of balanced scales, one tray of which is weighted with what has been and the other with knowledge of
what is present. Whereas on the first the facts assembled can never be too hwnble or too numerous, on the second there can be oruy a few heavy, massive
,vcigln..
[N6,5]
"'The only Ilttitudl! worthy or philoso phy . .. in the indus trial era is ... restrain t. The '8Cientilicily' of a Marx ~ loe8 nol mean t hat philosoph y renOUDce8 ill ta,k ... ; rather. it indicatel lhat philosOI>hy hoMs itself in reserve \llllil illt' predominance or an unworthy reality is broken ." Hugo F'iseher. Kurt Mun. ulld seill VerhjjJt,. ... :z;u Staat ulld Wiruchuft (Jella , 1932), p. 59, [N6.6)
It is not without significance that Engels, in the context of the materialist conception of history, lays emphasis on classicality. For the dcmoDl;tration of the dialectic of development, he refers to laws "which the actual historical process itsdf provides, insofar as every momentum can be conside.red to be at the point of its full ripening, its classical.ity." Cited in Gustav Mayer, Fn·edn"cn Ellgelr, vol. 2, Engrls uud der Atifstieg der Arbeirtrbewegung III Europa (Berlin (1933»), pp. 434-
435.
IN'.1]
Engels in a leiter to) /'tI..,hrinl;. july 14. 1893: " It i§ IIho\·t> a ll this IItD.hIHUN' of an independent history of st a t e cU li s tihII.iOIl ~ . of liy&11'1'lU of law, of i~ l t'olu,;il·a ll·o n cl'p· liunl in every 5epU rall! Ilomain. thaI daulOi mOill people. If Luther II IltI Calvin
'o,·ercome' the offi cial Calholir. religioll , or Uegcl 'overcomell' Fichte and Kanl , or Rousseau with his ro·JlllhLicall Curll r(lf ,oci(ll ilJllirt:clly 'ovcrl:omt:s' the conslilu. tional Montes«lIitlu . this il a prm:eu which rf'mailll! within theology, philosophy. or political sciellce. represt:uts II stllgc in the hi~lo ry of these part.iClllar spheres of tllOUgll1 and nevr.r paues beyoud tJu~ 8pl1l:re of thought. And since the bourgeois illu.siull of the eternity a ll(1 fi nality or cQ pitalill1 protlucliou lin been added to this, (,l·ell Iht' o,·ercoming of till' mf'rcantilists hy the phy, iocrats and Adam Smith is rt'gnrded as a II heer victor y of Ihought; nut as the reflection in thought or changed t'I·llntlmi(' fa el.il, bUI u the finoU y achie",!d correcl unders ta nding or ac tual contlition~ 5ubsisting alway, onel everyw here. "I. Cited in Gustav 1'!fayer, Friedrich Engel.s. vol. 2 , Engels lind der All/sties der- ArbeiterbewegunS in Europa (Berlin), PII . MjO-"5L [N6a.l) " What Schlosser couJd say in response 10 Ihe8e r eproaches [ur peevillb moral rigor J. aud what he 1l10ulil lIay. is thi,: that IU810ry and life in general. unlike nOl'els allli stories, do 1I0t teMch a lell80IJ of s uperficial j oit' de vivre, even to the happily eonstituted spirit and senses ; that the contemplation or history is more likely 1.0 inilpirtl. if nOI contempt ror humanity, then Ii ~ omber vision or the world alld strict prind plt'li for Living; that, at leas t on Ihe very greatest judges or the world and huma nkind , on men who knew how tel measure outward affairs by their OWII inlier life. 011 II ShakeBpelire. Dante. or MaehiaveUi, the way of the world always IIlacie the 6"rt or inlpreu ion lhat conduces to seriousness and Heverity." G, G. Cervin"s , Friedrich CI,r-utoph Sch loJler(Leipzig. 1861), in Deut.sehe Denhr-eden, ed. Rud olf Borchardt (Munich. 1925). ,). 312. [N6a,2]
The relation of tradition to the technology of reproduction deserves to be stud· ied. "Traditions ... re.late to written communications, in general, as reproduction of the latter by pen relates to reproduction by the press, as successive copies of a book relate to its simultaneow printings." Carl Gustav Jochmann, Ueb~ die Sprack (Heidelberg, 1828). pp. 259-260 ("Die Riioochritte der Poesie")." [N6.,3]
Roger Caillois, ;jParis, my the modeme" (Nouvelle Revue jra1l{aiJe, 25, no, 284 [May 1, 1937], p. 699), gives a list of the investigations that one would have to undertake in order [0 illuminate the subject further. (1) Descriptions of Paris that antedate the nineteenth tenruey (Marivaux, Restif de La Bretonne); (2) the strug· gle between Girondists andJacobins over the relation of Paris to the provinces; the legend of the days of revolution in Paris: (3) secret police under the Empire an~ the Restoration; (4) ptillture InQr-ale of Paris in Hugo, Balzac, Baudelaire; (5) obJecti~e descriptions of the city: Dulaurc. Du Camp; (6) Vigny, Hugo (Paris aflame m L'Annel' ttm·b1t). Rimbaud, [N7.1)
~lill to be established is t.he corutection between presence of mind and the rncthod" of dialectical materialism. It's not just thai one t.vill always be able to detcct a dialectical process in presence of miud, regarded as o ne of the highest
fomu of appropriate behavior. 'What is even more decisive is that the dialectician cannot look o n history as anything other than a constellation of dangers which he is always, as he follows its development in his thought, on the point of avening. [N7,2j 8
[N7a,3]
111e reception of great, much admired works of art is an ad plum ire_rJ
[N7a,4)
-me materialist presentation of history leads the past to bring the present into a
tlrll mll l)er h ll p ~ nlore thlln II history. lind itil pathos ill II I:fllldition at imperious 11 8 its authenticity!' 81aDllui , cited in Geffroy, 'Enferme (Pari., 1926). vol. I, p, 232. [N7.3]
" I{evolutioll is
Telescoping of the past through the present.
crirical state.
'j
[N7a.5)
It is my intention (0 withswld what Vale.ry calls "a reading slOWed by and bristling \Vim the resisWICCS of a refined and fastidious reader." Charles Baudelaire. U J Flam dll mai, Introduction by Paul Valery (Paris. 1928), p. xiii,u [N7
Necessity of paying heed over many years to every casua1 citation, every Setting mention of a book.. [N7,4] To contraSt the theory of history with the observation by Grillparzer which EdrnondJaJoux traIUlates in ':Journaux intimes" (Le 7'emPJ, May 23 , 1937): "To read into the future is difficult, but to see purely into the past is more difficult still. I say purely, that is, without involving in this retTospective glance anything that has taken place in the meantime." The "purity" of the gaze is not JUSt difficult but impossible to attain. [N7,5]
My thinking is related to theology as blotting pad is related to ink. It is saturated wim ~t. ,,*re one to go by the blotter, however, nothing of what is written would remam. (N7a,7)
,
It is the present that polarizes the event into fore- and after-history_
[N7a.8]
diaJectically presen~d historical circumstance polarizes itself and becomes a force field in which the confrontation between its fore-history and after-history is played out.. It becomes such a field insofar as the present instant in~rpenea-ateS it.. <See N7a, 8.) And thus the historical evidalce polarizes into fore- and after-history always anew, never in the same way. And it does so at a distance from its own existence, in the present instant itself-like a line which, divided according to the Apollonian section,lJ experiences its partition from outside itself. (N7a.1]
On the question of the incompleteness of history, H orkheinler's letter of March 16, 1937: "The determination of incompleteness is idealistic if completeness is nOI comprised within it. Past injustice has occumd and is completed. The slain are really slain.... If one takes the lack of closure entirely seriously, one must believe in the LastJudgment ... . Perhaps, with regard to incorupletale5S, there is a difference between the positive and the negative, so that only the injustice, the horror. the sufferings of me past are irrqxtrable. The justice practiced, the joys. the v.'Orks, have a different relation to time, for their positive charaaer is largdy negated by the transience of things. This holds firSt and foremost for individual existence, in which it is not the happi.ness bUI the unhappiness that is sealed by death." The corrective to this line of thinking may be found in the consideration [hat history is not simply a scialce but also and not least a fonn of remembranct (~ingerkn km>. What science has "determined," remembrance can modify. Such mmdfulness can make the incomplete (happiness) into something complete, and the complete (suffering) into something incomplete. That is theology; but in remembrance we have an experience thai forbids us to conceive of history as fundamentally atheological, little as it may be granted us to try to write it with immediately ~eological concepts. [Na.l ]
Historical materialism aspires to neither a homogeneous nor a continuous eJ(~ sition of history. From the fact that the supersO'Ucture reacts upon the base, It follows that a homogeneous history, say, of economics exists as little as a homoge' neous history of literature or of jurisprudence, On the other hand , since the clifferent epochs of the past are not all touched in the same degree by the present day of the historian (and often the recent past is not touched at all; the present fails to "do it justice"), continuity in the presentation of history is unattainable. [N7a,2]
The unequivocally regressive function which the doctrine of archaic images has fOr Jung comes to light in the following passage fTOm the essay "Ober die Beziehungen der analytischen Psychologie zum dichterisdlcn KUIlSrwerk": "The creative p rocess ... consists in an unconscious activation of the archetype and in an ... e1a~or:ation of this original image into the finished work. By giving it shape, the arnst m so~e. measurc translates this image into the language of the prescn,t. . .. The.~ lies the ~.cial signiJicOlncc of art : ... it conjures up the fornu in which the Zeitb'ClSt, the Splnt of the age. is most lacking. The unsatisfied yeaming
It is important for dIe materialist historian. in the most rigorous way possible, to differentiate the construction of a historical state of affairs from what onc customarily calls its " reconstruction ," The "reconstruction" in empathy is one-elimensional. "Corutruction" presupposes "destruction." [N7,6j \
In order for a part of the past to be touched by the present instant
(N7.7]
The fore- and after-history of a historical phenomenon show up in the pbalome· non itself on the strength of its dialectical presentation. What is more: every
,•
of the artist reaches back to the primordial image in the unconscious which is best fitted to compensate the ... one-sidedness of the spirit of the age. This image his longing seizes Oll , and as he ... brings it to consciousness, the inlage changes its fonn until it can be acccpted by the minds of his contemporaries , according to their powers!' C. G. Jung, &e1~prohleme du Gegenwart (ZUrich, Leipug, and Stuttgart. 1932), p. 71.2~ Thus, the esoteric theory of art comes down to making arche types "accessible" to the "Zeitgeis[." {N8,2] InJung's production there is a belated and particu1arly emphatic claboration of one of the dements which, as we can recognize today, were first di.sclosed in explosive fashion by Expressionism. That dement is a specifically clinical nihilism, such as one encounters also in the: works of Berm, and which has found a camp followc:r in CCline. TIlls nihilism is born of the shock imparted by the interior of the body to those who bUt it. Jung b.irosdf traces the heightened interest in psychic life back to Expressionism. H e writes: "Art has ~ w.ay of anticipating future changes in man's fundamental outlook, and expresSlOrust an has taken this subjective tum well in advance of the more general change." See Seelenprobleme der Gegenwart (ZUrich, Lcipug, and Stuttgart, 1932), p. 415"Das Seelenproblem des modemen Menschen ").~ In this regard, we sho~d ~ot lose sight of the relations which Lukacs has established between Expresslonum and Fascism. (See also K7a,4.) [N8a,I} "Tradition, erranl fable one coUecllI, I I.nlermittenl liS the wind in the leave. ... Victor Hugo. La Fin de Soton (Paris. 1886). p. 235. {NSa,2)...
Julien Benda, in Un Rigulier daTU Ie si},k , cites a phrase from Fuste1 de Cou· Ianges: "lfyou want to relive an epoch, forget that you know what has come after it." 1ba.t is the secret Magna Charta for the presentation of history by the Historical School, and it carries linle conviction when Benda adds : "Fustd n~ said that these measures were valid for Wlderstanding the role of an epoch m history." {NSa,3]
.. f Pursue the question of whether a connea:ion existS between the secuIanzaFlOn 0 time in space and the allegorical mode of perception. The former, at any rate (as becomes clear in Blanqui's last writing), is hidden in the "worldview of ~e nannai sciences" of the second half of the cenrury. (Secu1ariz.ation of history in {N8a,4] Heidcgger.)16 Goethe saw it corning: the crisis in bourgeois education. He confronts it in Wilhelm Meister. H e characterizes it in his correspondence with Zeiter. [N8a.5} Wtlhclm von Humboldt shifts the center of gravity to languages ; Marx an~ Engels shift it to the natura! sciences. But the study of languages has cronolluc functions, too. It comes up against global economics! as the study of natural sciences comes up against the production process. IN9. I]
Scienti6c method is distinguished by the fact that, in leading to new objects, it develops ncw methods. JUSt as fornl in art is distinguished by the fact that, opening up new contents, it develops new forms . h is only from 'Nithout that a work. of art has one and dilly onc fonn. that a treatise has one and only one method. (N9,2] On the concept of " rescue M: the wind of the absolute in the sails of the concept. (The principle of the wind is the cyclical.) The trim of the sails is the relative. IN',3} Whar are phenomena rescued from? Not only. and not in the main, from the discredit and neglect into which they have fall en , but from the catastrophe represented vcry often by a certain strain in their dissemination, their "enshrinement as heritage."- TIley are saved through the exhibition of the fissure within them.- There is a tradition that is catastrophe. [N9,4]
It is the inherent tendency of dialectical experien ce to dissipate the semblance of eternal sameness, and evcll of repetition. in history. Authentic political experience is absolutely free of this semblance. (N9,5] What matters for tile dialectician is to have the ,'lind of world history in his sails. Thinking means for him: setting the sails. What is imponam is how they an:: set. \-\bIds are his sails. The way they arc set makes them into concepts. fN9,6] The dialectical image is an image that cmerges suddenly. in a Bash. "What has been is to be held fast- as an image Bashing up in the now of its recognizability. The resOle that is carried out by these Dlearul-and only by these-can operate soldy for the sake of what in the next moment is already irretrievably lost. In this connection, see the metaphorical passa~ from my introduction to J ochmann, , concerning the- prophetic gaze that catches fire from the summits of the past.'P [N' ,7} Being a dialectician means having the wind of history in one's sails. The sails arc the concepts. It is not enough. howNer. to have sails at onc='s disposal. What is decisive is knowing UI(: art of setting them. [N9,8]
~e concept of Pl'Ob'TCSS must be b'TOunded in ule idea of catastrophe. 11lat tlungs are "status quo" is thc Cata5lrophe. It is nOI an ever-present possibility but what in cach case is briven. Thus Su-indbcrg (in 10 Dama.fCus?) :1. hell is not something that awaits us, but this life here and now. [N9a.1 I
It is good to give materialist investigations a truncated ending.
(N9a,2]
10 the process of resale belongs (he finu. scemingly brutal grasp.
(N9a.3]
The dialectical image is that fonn of the historical object which satisfies Goethe's requirements for the object of analysis: to exhibit a genuine synthesis. It is the primal phenomenon of history. [N9a.4]
The enshrinement or apologia is meant to cover up the revolutionary moments in the occurrenC(: of history. At heart, it seeks the establishment o f a continuity. It sets store only by those elements of a work that have already emer ged and played a part in its reception. The places where tradition breaks off-hence its peaks and crags, which offer footing to one who would cross over them - it misses.
If the object of history is to be blasted o ut of the continuum of historical succcs· sion, that is because its monad ological structure demands it. TIlis structure first comes to light in the extracted object itself. And it does so in the fonn of the lustorical confi'Olltation that makes lip the interior (and, as it were, the bowels) of the historical objeCt. and into which all the forces and interests of history enter on J reduced scale. It is owing to this monado logica1 structure. that the historical object finds represented in its interior its own fore·history and after-history. (TIms. for cxample, the fore ·history of Baudelaire, as educed by current scholar· ship. resides in allegory: his after·history. inJ ugendstil.) (N IO,3]
[N'.,51 Historica1 materialism must renounce the epic element in history. It blasts the epoch out of the reified "continuity of history." But it also explodes the homogeneity of the epoch, interspersing it with ruins-that is, with the presenL [N9a,6] In every true " 'ork of art there is a place where, for one who removes there, it blows cool like the wind of a coming dawn. From this it follows that art, which has often been considered refractory to every relation with progress, call provide its true definition. Progress has its seat not in the continuity of elapsing time but in its interferences-where the truly new makes itself felt for the first time, with the sobriety of dawn. [N9a,7) FOr the materialist hiswrian, every epoch with whidl he occupies himself is only prebiswry for the epoch he himself must live in. And so, for him. there can be no apparance of repetition in history. since precisely those moments in the course of history which matter most to him, by virtue of their indtl as "fore·history," become moments of the present day and change their specific character according to the catastrophic or triumphant nature of that day. [N9a,8] Scientific progress-like historical progress-is in each instance merely the first _ step, never the second, third, or n + I -supposing that these latter ever belonged not just to the Vt'Orkshop of science but to its corpus. That, however, is not in fact the case; for every Stage in the dialectica1 process (like every stage in the process of history itScif), conditioned as it always is by every stage preceding, brings intO play a fundamentally new tendenCYl which necessitates a fundamentally new treatment. The dialectica1 method is thus distinguished by the fact: that, in leading to new objects, it develops new methods, JUSt as fo nn in art is distinguished by the fact that it d evelops new fo rms in ddineating new contents. It is only from without that a work of art has one and finly o ne fonn, that a dialectical treatise has one and only one method. [N t O,I] Definitions of basic historical concepts: Catastrophc-to have m issed the o pporrunity. Gritica1 moment-the status quo threatens LO be presCived. Prob'TCSS-the first revolutionary measure taken. (N 10.2]
Fomling the basis o f the confrontation with conventional historiography and ~e ushrinemen t" is the polemic against empathy (Grillparzer, Fustel de_ Conlanges). [N1O,4) The Saint-Simonian Barrault distinguishes betwcen ipoqurJ urgauiqua and ipoqun ,"tiqu(.J. (See U15a,4.) The derogation of the critica1 spirit begins direaly after the v ictory o f the bourgeoisie in the July Revolution. [N IO,5J The destructive or aitica1 momenrum of materialist historiography is registered in that blasting of historical continuity with which the historical object first constirutes itself. In fact, an object of history C3IUIOt be targeted at all within the continuous elapse of history. And so, from time immemorial, historical narration has simply picked out an object from this continuous succession. But it has done so v.rithout foundation, as an expedient; and its first thought was then always to reinsert the object into the continuum, which it would create anew through empathy. Materialist historiography does not choose its objects arbitrarily. It does nOl fasten on them but rather springs them loose from the order o f succes· sion. Its provisions are more cxtensive, its occurrences more essential. [N I Oa,l ] [ForI the destructive momentum in materialist historiography is to be conceived as the reaction to a constellation of dangers, which threatens both the burden of tradition and those who receive it. It is this constellatio n of dangers which the materialist presentation of history comes to engage. In this constellation is com· prised its actuality; against its threat, it must prove its presence of mind. Such a presentation o f history has as goa! to pass, as Engels puts il, olbeyond dle sphere of thought."~ [NIOa.2]
'T'~ l~inkillg belongs the movement as well as the arTelit of thoughts. Where thmkmg comes to a standstill in a constellation samrated with tensions-dlCI"C the dialectica1 in)age appears. It is the c.aesura in the movement o f mought. Its POsition is namrally not an arbitrary o ne. It is to be fOlmd , in a word. where the tcnsio n between dialectical opposites is greatest. Hence., d,e object constnlcted in ~he materialist presem ation of lu.~tnry is itself the dialectical image. TIle lauer is l~entical v.riUt the historical object: it justifies its violent expulsion from the con· bnllu m of historical process. fN 1Oa,3]
The archaic fonn of primal history, which has been summoned up in every epoch and now once mort: by Jung, is that" form which .makes semblance in history still more delusive by mandating nature as its homeland. [Nil , I}
·1'0 write history means giving dates their physiognomy.
(N1I.2]
-Ole events surroundi.ng the historian, and in which he himself takes part. will underlie his presentatio n in the form of a leXt written in invisible ink. The history which he lays before the reader comprises, as it were, the citations occurring in this text, and it is only these citacions that occur in a manner legible to all, To write history thus means to cile history. It belongs to the concept of citacion, however, that the historical object in each case is tom from its context. [NI I ,31 On the dementary doctrine of historical materialism. (1) An object of history is
that through which knowledge is constituted as the object's rescue. (2) His[Qry decays into inlages, not into Stories. (3) Wherever a dialectical process is realized, we are dealing with a monad. (4) The materi..aJ.ist presentation of history carries along with it an immanent critique of the concept of progress. (5) Historical materialism bases its procedures on long experience, common sense, presence o f mind, and dialectics. (On the monad: NlOa,3.) [NI l ,4] The present d etermines where, in the object from the past, that object'S fore· history and after·history diverge so as to circumsaibe its nucleus. [NII ,SJ To provt: by example that only Marxism can practice great philology, where the literature of the previous century is concerned. [N l l,6] 1'he regions which were the first to become enlightene::d are nOl those where the sciences have made the greatest progress." Tu rgot, Otuum, vol. 2 (Paris, 1844), pp. 601-602 {"Second cliscours sur lc=s progres successifs de I'esprit hUlllain"}.The thought is taken up in the later literature, and also in Marx. [NU ,7J
III the course of the nineteenth century, as the bourgeoisie consolidated its positions of power, the concept of progress would increasingly have forfeited the critical functions it originally possessed. (In this process, the doctrine o f natural selection had a de::cisive role to play : it popularized lhe notion that progress was automatic. The extension of th(: concept of progress to the:: whole of human activity was funhered as a result.) With Turgot, the concept o f progress still had its critical functions. In particular, the concept m ade it possible to direct people's attention to retrograd e tendencies in history. Turgot saw progress, characteristically, as guarant~d above all i.1I the realm of mathematical research.
mathemaLicul 81uwe&---«o unstead y in everythinr; elk. 8nli loO a pl to go uJjlrayl' •• . In tlUlI , low progrClI8itlll of opinio ns ami errors, ... I fa ocy Iha t T!Iee those flrs l leaves. d IOse ~ hea th ll which nat ure ha ll "h'en to t he newly ,;rowi ng stems of plalll..5, iU lling bcfu re them from tile ea rth , uml "'ilhe ring om' by OllC 1111 IIthel' shea ths COllie in lu cxilltcnce. IIlIl i.1 III Ins t t hc slelll ilself lII ukc~ illl a ppell r llllce a nd i.& crowued with Rowers and frui t-a ayml,ol (lr la tc-emerplIg t r uth ." Thrgol. Oeuvre." vol. 2 (Pam, I Mi.). pp. 600.-601 ("Secolld tlillCOllfll ~ lI r tell progreslucrClillifs de 1'f'..lIllrit humain" ).11 [N I la,2]
A lime! to progress still exists in Turgot : "In la ter times, ... it was necessary for them, through reBecti.on, to take themselves back to where the:: first men had been led by blind instinct. And who is not aware that it is hue that the supreme dl'on of reason lies?" Turgot, Ot uzmJ, vol. 2, p. 610.~ l1tis limit is still present inManc; later it is lost. [N Il a,3] Already with Turgot it is e::vident that the conce::pt of progress is oriented toward COlTtcti~ in an. (At bottom, not even an can be ranged exclusively under the concept of regression; neither does J ochmann's essay develop this concept in an unqualified way.) Of courS(:, Turgot's estimate of art is different from what ours would be today. "Knowledge of nature and of truth is as infinite as they are; the ans, whose aim is to ple::ase us, are as limited as we are. Tune constantly brings to light new discoveries in the sciences; but poetry, painting, and music ha~ a fixed limit which thc= genius of languages, the imitation of nature, and the limited sensibility of our organs detennine.... Th(: great m en of the Augustan age reached it, and arc. still ou r m odels." Turgot, Oeuflt'tJ, vol. 2 (Paris, 1844), pp. 605-606 ("Second discours sur les progres successUs de I'esprit humain").;A Thus a programmatic rmWlciation of originality in an! [NI2, I]
science, but has its
"The re are c1cmen1..5 of t he artll of t usle whic h could he perfected with ti me--fo r exumple, pc rlpccti ve. which (icpe nds on optic.. Bul locli l colo r, Ihe imitation of nalure, a nd the express ion or the passio ns a re of all time!>." Turgot, Oeuvres, vol. 2 (Paris, 1844). p. 658 (""P lli n du t>t:t:olld d i81l0 llril sur i'lusloire ulliversdle").:M [N J2,2J
[N Il a, l]
Militant representation of progress: "It is not error tha.t is opposed to the progress of truth; it is indolence t obstinacy, the spirit of routine, everything that contribUtes to inaetion.-The progtUs of even the most peaceful of am among the ancient peoples of Greece and tllcir republics was punctuated by continual wars. ~t was like thcJ ews' build ing the walls ofJ erusalem with one hand while defendI~g them with the other. llleir spirits were always in ferment, their heans always high with ad\'enture; and e::ach day was a further enlightenment." Turgot, Oeuvres, vol. 2 (Paris, 1844), pp. 672 ("Pensees et fragmen ts"}. [N 12 .3]
" Uul wha l II 1l1/e(·tal'il' 11m ~ \lI! l'ess jo ll of m e ll ', opinious prt! St:ll t~ ! Therc I st-"(!k the IJI'og.1'Ci;; or Ihe Iuull nll mi nd . ami I linil \'irtually lIotlli lll; but t.he I,islory of iu c rru ra. Wh y is iu ctlu rllt-"-whic h i8 110 l ure. fro m the very liral ~te p' . in the fic.l d of
~ence- of mind as a political category comes magnificently to life in these ....'ords ofTurgot : "Before we have leanted to deal with chings in a given position, they have already changed several times. Thus,we always percei~ events too
latc, and politics always needs to foresee, so to speak. the present !' Turgot', Onwm , vol. 2 (Paris, 1844), p. 673 ("Pensees et fragments").):! [NI2a. 1J "1' III~ ... rluliculJy allcl'c.d luruhl'upt! fir Iht' lIillctCt'nlh centur y remain8 vi6ihlc to thia tla y. II I Jell s l ill Iract''' . II WII$ s haped hy the rui lroatls . ... ThO! focal pOinl! of Ihil higturicul lonilsrape a n~ present whe r e ver motl,lItain Uiultullllel , 1!llnyml and vbuillct, lurN!1I1 and ftlni culur, river and iron bridgt: ... revl:ul their kinship . .. , hi ulltheir singularity. tlu"ge things announce that na lure has 1101 wilb,irllwn . amid the t r iulliph of It'dmologic al civiliutioll. into the numdeu a nll inc huute. Iha l the pllre COlllltrllflion of IJri.lge. or tunnel di,1 nol in itself . . . us urplhc la ndl.lcll l>e. but Ulat ril'c.r uud mountain at once took their side. aDd not a8 subjugated adversaries but 88 friendl y powers .... The iron locomoth'e thai disappears into the moun tain IUDlid , . . seems . . , 10 be returnillg 10 its native element, wherelhe raw material oul uf which it W IUI nllule lies slumbering." Oolf Sternberger, PlInorfHt l ll.• oder An$ichren 110111 19 . )lIJlrhuFlt/erl ( Hanthurg, 1938), PI" 34-35. [N 12a,2]
<5
"
The concept of progress had to run coumer to the critical theory of history from the moment it ceased to be applied as a criterion to specific historical developments and instead was required to measure the span bet\yeen a legendary inception and a legendary end of history. In other words: all soon as it becomes the signature of historical process a.I a whole, the concept of progress bespeaks an uncritical hypostatizatio n rather than a critical interrogation. nus latter may be recognized, in the concrete exposition of history, from the fact that it outlines regression 3tleast as sharply as it brings any progress intO view. (Thw Turgot, Jochmann.) [Nl 3, l) Lotze as critic of the concept of progress: Min opposition to the readily accepted doctrine that the progress of humanity is ever onward and upward, more cau' tious reflection h:u been forced to make the discove:ry that the course: of history takes the fonn of spirals-some prefer to say epieydoids. In shon, there has never been a deanh of thoughtful but veiled acknowledgments that the impression produced by history on the whole, far from being one of unalloyed exulta· tion. is preponderantly melancholy. Unprejudiced consideration will always lament and wonder to see how many advantages of civilization and special charms of life are lost, never to reappear in their integrity?' H ermann Lotze, Mikroltrumru, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864). p. 21.~ [N 13.2) Lout as critic of the concept of progress : "It is not . .. clear how we are to imagine one course of education as applying to successive generations of men. allowing the later of these to panake of the fruits produced by the unrewarded effons and often by the misery of those who went before. To hold that the claims of particular times and individual men may be scorned and all t11eir misfortunes disregarded if only mankind would inlprove overall is, though suggested by noble feelings , merely ent.husiastic thoughtlessness. .. Nothing is progress which docs nOt mean an increase of happiness and perfection for those very souls
which had suffered in a previous imperfect state." Hermann Lotze, MikroMsmOS, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864), p. 23.31' If the idea of progress extended over the totality of recorded history is something peculiar to the satiated bourgeoisie, then Lotze represents the reserves called up by those on the defensive. But contrast H olderlin: 0;1 love the race of men who arc coming in the next centuries."38 [NI3,3] A thought·provoking observation : "It is o ne of the most nOle\\o"Orthy peculiarities of the human heart . .. that so much selfishness in individuals coexists with the gt:nera1 lack of envy which every present day feels toward its future ." This lack of envy indicates !hat the idea we have of happiness is deeply colored by the time in which we live. Happiness for us is thinkable only in the air that we have breathed, among the people who have lived with us. In other words, there vibrates in the idea of happiness (this is what that noteworthy cira.unstance teaches w ) the idea of salvation. 1bis happiness is founded on the very despair and desolation which were ours. Our life, it can be said, is a muscle strong enough to contract the whole of historical time. Or, to put it differently, the genuine conception of historical time rests entirely upon the image: of redemption. (The passage i.~ from Lotze, Mikrokru11lOJ, vol. 3 [Ldpzig, 1864], p. 49.)3fI [N13a,l]
Denial of the notion of progress in the religious view of history: "History, how· ever it may move forn-ard or fluctuate hither and thither, could not by any of i~ movements attain a goal lying out of its own plane. And we may spare ourselves the trouble of seeking 10 find, in mere onward movement upon this plane, a progress which history is destined to make not there but by an upward movement at each individual point of its COUTse fonvard;" Hermann Lotz.e, Mihdru· mos, vol. 3 (Leipzig, 1864), p. 49.-10 [N13a,21 Connection. in Lotze, between the idea of progress and the idea of redemption: "The reason of the world would be turned to unreason if ~ did not reject the thought that the work of vanishing generations should go o n forever benefiting only those who come later, and being irreparably wasted for the workers them· selves" (p. 50). This cannot be, "unless the ","Orld itself, and all the flourish about hislorical development, are to appear as mere vain and unintclligible noise.. . . Tht in some mysterious way the progress of history affects them, too-it is this conviction that first entitles us to speak as we do of humanity and its history" (p. 5 1). Lotze calls this the "thought of t.he preservation and restoration of all things" (p. 52).tl [N 13a.3) C ultural history, according to Bernheim, developed out of the pOsitivism of Comte; Bcloch's Grult HUlary «vol. 1,> 2nd edition, 191 2) is, according to him, a textbook example of Comtean influence. Positivist historiography "disregarded . .. the state and political processes, and saw in the coUective intellectual development of-society the sole content of history.. . . The elevation ... of cultura1 history to the only subject worthy of historical research! " Ernst Bernheim, Mil·
te/ail«/iene :(ntaruduUlungm in iltmn EinjlUJS atif Po/ililt und Gucni/!dw:llreibung n-ubingen, 1918), p. 8.
{Nl4, I)
,.;j
"' The logical categor y of tinJl: (Ioes nol j!;overll the ver h nlll(;h /18 (onc m.ight eX I>eet .' St range a~ it mlly 8~n1 . the expression of the future .ltte5 not oppear to be ~iluatetl on the 5amt: It:vel of tile InulIIUI mill.1 all tlu, l"x prCUilJll of till' pll81 ami of the prCl!ent . ... ' The fUlureuftcn has 1111 cxlln!n ion of its uwn ; or if it has one. it is a ("omplicated expr t:8sion without parallel to that of the present or the I>a§!: ... 'There is no reason to believe thaI prehilltoric Indo-European ever p08seued a true future teme' ( Meillet)." J ean-Richard Bloch, "Lallgage d ' utililt:, langage
1wt!li1Iue" (E ncyclopediefra n( Clue. vol. 16 [ 16-50]. 10).
[N14,2]
Simmel touches o n a very important matter with ule distinction between the concept of culture and the spheres of autonomy in classical Idealism. The separa. tion of the thn=:e autonom ous d omains from o ne another preserved classical Idealism from the concept of culture that has so favored the cause of barbarism. Sinmld says of the cultural ideal: "It is essential that the independem values of aesthetic, scienti6" ethical, ... and even religious achievements be transcended, so thai they can all be integrated as elements in UlC dcvclopment o f human nature beyond its naruraJ state." Georg Simmel, Philruophie tW Geldes (Leipzig, 1900), pp. 476-477,,1 [Nlt.3j " There has !lever beeu a period of hislor y ill which the cultu re peculiar to it h•• lea\.tmed th .. whule of humanity, or eve.n Ihe whole of that ont: nation which was ~ pecially didinguished hy it. All dcgrt!cs anti s hades of moral barbarism. of mental obtuilelle8.8. and of physical wrelcilewll!lIs have lIiWtlyli been Cound in juxtapol itioo with cuhured rdinenlenl of Jjf~ . . . and fret' particil>ation in tile benefiu of civil flnler." Hermann Lutze. Mikrokos mo" vol. 3 (l ...eipzig, 1864). PI" 23-24.~J (N 14a,l] Ttl th tl ,·iew that .. tlltlre is progress enough if• .. . while the Dlal l of mankind ~maills mired ill an uncivilized condition , the cil·ilization of a small minority it constantly ijtruggling upward to greater and greater heighl8," Lotze rcspond, with the question : ··How. upon such auumfltiom;. Ctlll we be entitled to speak of one his tory of mIlDkilld?" Lotze. /lfihrokosmM, vol. 3. p . 25. 14 [N14a,2]
I .. "The way ill whiell the cuhurf' of palll limes i.s for till! llul/ll pari hllnded (own , Lotze sayl, " lca~i8 directly back to the very opposite of Ihut ut which historical development shouill aim : it lead s. that is , to the formation of UII instinct of culture, which contillually takes Ill' nlOre and mor(" of the clenlt'IIU of ci\'i!izllliiJlI , thul making them II lirclt~sll I)OJlliCil~ioll , and withdrawing thenl frllm the sllhere of that 1"I1IIscious ac ti vity by the errorts of whidl t.he)" ....ere at firs t ohtllincd" (p . 28? Accordingly; "Tile progrc8lI of sdellct: il 1101 . . . .•liredly, humall IIrflgresl: It wllulll he this if, ill proportilln to til(' inCI"ease ill accumulated trulh!!, ther~ ....ere
also a ll itll:re.ase in IIIt~n 's t()neern for L1n~ m ... and in tile dCilrncss of their insight ~'oncernillg them." l.otzt:, Mikroko.mIOl. \'01. 3, p . 29 . '~ [N 14a,3 j Lotze 011 hum a nit y : .. It call nnt I... said t.hat ml' ll grow t(l what they a n : with 9 consciOu Slless of this growth . allli with all acwlllpanyilll[l: rcml'murallce 1)£ their I'1"' ViOIl8 condition : ' l.,utz tl, Mikrokosmos. vol. 3. p. 3 1.1<1 (N 14a,4}
Lotze's vision of history can be related to Stifter's: "that the unruly will of the individual is always restricted in its action by universal conditions not subject to arbitrary will--conclitions which are to be found in the laws of spiritual life in general, in the established order of nature ... " Lotze, MiA:roko.rfflOJ, vol. 3, p. 34.11 [N lb,5} To be compared with SOfter's preface to Bunte Slein~
A phrase which Baudelaire com for the consciousness of tune peculiar to some· o ne intoxicated by hashish can be applied in the de6.ni.tion of a revolutionary historical consciousness. H e speaks of a night in which he was absorbed by the effects of hashish: "Long though it seemed to have been ... , yet it also seemed to have lasted only a few seconds, or even to have had no place in all eternity."
At any given time. the living see themselves in the midday of history. They are: obliged to prepare a banquet for the past. The historian is the herald who invites {N15,2) the dead to the table. On the dietetics of historical lilerature. The contemporary who learns from books of history to recognize how long his present misery has been in preparatio n (and this is what the historian must inwardly aim to show him) acquires thereby a high opinion of his own powers. A history that provides this kind of inStruction docs nOl cause him sorrow, but anus him. Nor does such a history arise from sorrow, unlike Ulat which Flaubert had in mind when he penned the COnfession : "Few will suspect how depreSS(!d olle had to be to wldel1ake thr resuscitation of Carthage."~~ It is pure Clmo.uti that arises from and deepens SOrrow. (N 15,3) Example of a "cultural historical" perspective ill the l\l()rSe sense. Huizinga speaks of tile consideration displayed for the life of the cOllunon people in the pastorals .o f the late Middle Ages. "Here, too, belongs that interest in rags and laners which ... is already beginning to make itself fclt. Calendar miniarures note with pleasure the threadbare knees of reapers in the field, while paintings
accentuate the rags of mendicants . . . . H ere begins the line that leads through Rembrandt's etchings and M uriDo's beggar boys to the smet types of Stein.len.... .J. H uizinga, /ierbJI ties Mittt:laltm (Municlt, 1928), p. 44 8.~ At issue, of course, is actually a very specific pheno menon. (N 15 ,4] " T Ill' pust h ll.5 I,·rt images of itself in litcr ar y lexts . images compar able to those whieh a rc imprintcli II)' light on a phottlsClui tivl' pilite. The fut urc alOne pus&eues !I~v ('I !)pc r.;; act.ive enough 10 ilcan such ~ ur fll ce s l )e rf~I · t1 y. Many page!! ill Ma riva nx 01' llouiSNHI contain a IlIy&tcrious meaning which the fi rst reatlt.rs of the1M' texta rould not ful.l y h a\'e d ecipherl:l.l." Andre Monglond , Le P rero nwnti.$me. /rm u;ou, \'111. 1.1..e UerO! p rero nwntique. (GI"I!lIohle, 1930), (I . xi i. (N ISa,l } r
A revealing vision of progress in H ugo, "Paris incendie (L'Annie It'rriblt): What! Sacrifice everything! E,'Cfl the granary! \"'hat! The library, arch whcre dawn arises, U nfathomable ABC of the idral. where pro~ , Eternal reader, leans on it5 d ho\vs and dreams .. .
O n the style o ne should strive for : "It is through everyday wo rds that sty.le bites intO and peneuates the reader. It is through them that great thoughts .ci.twlate and are accepted as genuine, like gold or silver imprinted with a. recogruzed seal. TIley inspire confidence in the person who uscs them to make Ius thoughts more understandable; for o ne recognizes by such usage of co mmon language a man who k.nows life and the world, and who stays in touch with thins!, Mo~, these wo rds make for a frank. style. They show that the autho r has lo ng ~ nated the thought o r the feeling expressed, that he has made them so mucl~ his own so much a matter of habi~ that for him the most commo n apresS10fLI suffi~ to express ideas that have become naru.ra.l to him after lo ng deli~~on. In the end, what one says in this way will appear more: truthful, fo r n~g 15 SO clear: when it comes to words, than those we call fam..iliar; and clanty 15 somethin~ so charnClcristic of the truth th at it is often confused with it." No thing more sublle than the suggestion: be clear so as to have at least the apJX3l4llce of truth. Offered in this way, the advice to write simply-which usually harbors resentment- has the highest autbo rity.J. j o ubert, Oeuvm (Paris, 1883), vol. 2, p. 293 [N 1Sa 3}
("Ou Sryle," no. 99).
'
TIle person who cowd develop the j oubertian diaJectic of precepts wo uld prod uce a stylistic!! worth mentio ning. For example, j ouhert recomm~nds the usc of "everyday ....-erds" but wan u agaUut "colloquial language; which "apresses things relevant to o ur present customs only" ("Ou Style," no. 67 < OeutJfts, vol. 2, ~ ~. [N 16, 1] " AU hea utiful a pre,;,;ion§ aN" susceptible of 111 0 1"1' dIa n line lIIeani ng. When a Ilt~ll u tirul clOi preu iou p N!knt ~ a meanul ~ more beautiful thau the author', own , it
IIhouid be otJO])tt:t.l ." J . J oui.w.rt , Oeu vres (paris , 1883). vol. 2 , p. 276 ("On Style," no. 17). [N 16,2]
With regard to political econo my, Marx characterizes as "its vulgar dement" above all "that dement in it whid l is mere reproductio n- that is, representation of appearance." Cited in Korsch, Karl M arx <manuscripp, vol. 2, p. 22 .S ) This vulgar clement is to he denounced in Other scienccs as well. [N 16,3} CtJllcept of na lure in Ma rx : " If UI I-Icgcl .. . ' physica i lialur e likeftise cncroaches 011 ,",' fl rld hil tory,' theu Ma rx I:ollccivc/l lIalun: frOll! the heginning in social categories. Physical nalure dOl!R 1I0t ent er d irectl y into wllr ill hjstory ; ra ther , it enter B uldi recti y. as a pruce8s of ma terial prod uctiou I,hal gOt'I on , fr om lhe earliest moment . 1I0t ouly between nlan and n alure but also between man an d man. Or, to use. lan guage Ihat will be clear tu phil mlopher~ as well: in Ma rx 'B rigorously lOCial ~ c ic llce , th nt pure natltre presupposeti by ullllllman acti vity (the. ei;ollomie natllra Iww ro n.'l) is replaced everywlu:rt' h y na lure as ntateriu l IINJllllctjon (the economic nawra no wrata }--that is , hy a social 'maller ' mediated and transformetJ thnl ugh h uman IUldal acti vity, and thus at the ,unle time capable of further change and modifi cation in the IJI'eBellt ami tlte future." Kor8l;b , Karl Mu r.t, VIII. 3, p . 3 .:.:1
[N l6,4] Korsch pro vides the fo llowing reformulation IIf the Hegelian triad in Marxian terms: " The Hegelilm ' cf)lItraJictioli ' was replaced b y the 8tr uggle of the social claiSe!!; the dialecticul ' negatioo,' by the p roletariat ; alld the dialectical 'synthe(N16.5] lis,' by the I>rolelarian revolutio n ." Korsell , Ka rl Mrlr.t. vol. 3, p . 45 ." Restr il!tio n of the materialist conception of histor y in Kor8ClI : "As the material mode of production change\! , so tJot's the sy~ tenl of mediations existing between the material bast! a ntJ its Iw liticala nlt juridical super structur e , with ill! corresponding social forms of consciousneu . Hence, the gener al propositions of matcriali8l social theory cOIil:ernlng thl.! rela tions between e.conomy and politic. or econOllly antJ ideology, or concerning ~ u ch general cOllcepts a8 clau and cla ss ~ trllggle, ... bave a tJifferellt meaning for each s pecifi c epoch a nd , strictl y spe aking, a re valid, in the particular form Ma rx gave them ""ithin the prescnt bourgeoi8 sQCiety, onl y fo r this Sf)l:illly.... Only (or contemporary hourgeois ~ocidy, where the sp heres of eton0 11ly and politics are formally allil entirely sepa rated from cach utber, and wbere worke rs us citizens o( t hl~ sta te are frl.'t' and IXl8kuetJ of etlual rigltu. clues the u it'lItific tJelllonstr atioll uf their actu al ongoiJlg lack o( freellllnl UI the el!ollomic ~ p ll c r c hlt vc 1he chur:lclcr of a theurt'til'lI l disc!uvel·Y." KOfiw h , \'01. 3, PII . 2 1- 22 . fN l 6a,I) Kor sch makes ··tlu~ ~" I· millg.ly IHtrllllolOiil:al ohllcrvatio n {whil·h is n(llwtlll'l t:~s ... SUiled lu t he fmul am /1II0ril mature (orlll o( Munda n science) that in lite m a l eri a Ji ~ 1 SUI·ia! theory of Mar x tile ellsem!.ie of sorial rdu lions , which hourgl.'Oili lIociol0gi5t8 t ~at as an intlepcndenl tJomuin .. . , already is in vestigated necor tJing to i18 oLjec-
live, , ,content by the hi.lltorica l and locial science of eCIlIImnic', .. ' , III th u 'eme, ml.tpri(.Ii.:It $ocilJ ,riem;e u Ilot 3ociolog), but economiC$.'· Kor c h, Karl .llurx. \'u i. 3. ". 103 .;'1 [N 16a,2] M(lrx ~
A I'itali"n from l\1urx t ill dl!" mutahilit y of nalur{' (in Kor8dl , K(.r/ Mll rx. vol. 3, p. 9): " En'n Ihe naturally grown val'iatiolls of the human spccie;;; , lI u('1I us differ _ ences of race, ... rlill and IIlU ~ t bc abolished in the Ilistorical process ... ;;~ (N16a,3]
Doctrine of the supersl r udur... according to Korsell : "'Nei ther ' dialectical caul!al_ ity' in illl philosophic delillilion. nor dcienti1ic ' l;JI.usality' supplemented by 'inter-lU'tinlll;.' is l u£ficienl 10 dch:rmine the particular kimls of connection8 and .·elations exi5ting hctw t't:1l thc c(:ollomic ' Lase' and UIt: juridical and political '8Uper structure ... " together with the ' I:o"relpondillg' forms of cOllsciou8ncu .... TYo'entielh-cclltur)' natural llcience has learned thai the 'cau8al' n:la tioOi which thc resea rcher in a gi" cn fi eld hal to establish for lhat field cannot be defined in tcrml! of a genen .. 1cO'lI:4:lll or law of cauliality, but mUl t be determined I pecifically for each separa te field ,· [·See Philil'P Frank , D,u KOII.m 1seletz und leiM Grenze'l
5O-CaUcll historic:al materialism IIICY have made a UniVCrilal .. , lociologicaJ tlleory, From lhis ... leveling ... of ma teria list theory of society. it was ollly II step to the idea thll l once again lod ay--or r.~ pecia U y tIMla y- it Yo' a~ nece6sar y 10 shore up the hi.;;loriclil allil economic sciellce of Marx . not onl y with a general sociall'hilosQphy hut e\'~ 11 with a ... uni versal materialist world view embracing the totality of uatun: unll @oricty. Thus, the .. , scicntific (orms into which the r eal kernel of •.iglIICillith-century philoliophical materiamm hatl evolved , , . were ultimately j·a rried back to wll at Ma rx himself hall once ulllllilltaka.bly r epudiated as ' Ihe philosophical phraJ>e8 of the I\lalerililli8ts about matter,' Materialist social lcience .. ' dlle$ I1l1t need ... any such philosophic I UPIJOrt . T his most important advalll:e . .. carrietl 0 111 by Marx was la ter overlooked even by . . . ' orthodox' inte'l)retenr ,)f Marx . . They have thus reintroduced their own backward attitude!! into a theory which l\brx had consciously transformed from a philosophy into a science. It is the almost grotesque historical fate of the Marx-orthodoxy that, in repulsing lhe attackl of re\'isionists, it ultimately arrives, on aU imlwrtant issues. at the veery same standpoint al that taken by iu adversaries, rill' example, the leacLing r epre8t'otaLive of this school , ... Plekhanov, in his eager pUr8 uit of that ' philosophy' which might be the t.rue foundati on of Marxism. finally hit upon the idea of presenting Marxism as ' a fonn of Spinoza 's philosophy (reed by Feuerbach of iu theological atldentlum. "· Korsch . Karlltfarx (mallu8I::ript ). vol. 3, pp. 2~1. ~1 [NllaJ KOflch cites Baco n , from the Novum Organum: ''' Recte crum verila@tempo"s lilia dicitur nOli a uctoritas.' On th at authority of all a uthorities, time , be had based the superiority of the new bourgeois empirical science over the dogmatic science of the Middle AgeB." KOnlf: h . Korl Marx (malluscript), vol. 1. p . 72. '" [N18. l]
I "'For the positi ve use, Marx replaceil the overweening postulate of Besel tllat the truth must be COllcrete with the ratiorutl principle of 1/}eci[lCation, , , . The real intercijt li('ij . ill the specific t.ra its through which each porticIlh, r historical sociely i~ d i5tinSlluhed from the common features of l ociety in general Ilnd in which . therefore, its development is cOlllprised .. , , In the same manner, au exact SOcial science rallllOI form its gener al concepu b y ainlpl)' abs tracting from some and r.etaining other more or less arbitrarily chosen t' haracteristics of the gi ven hi~torical form of bourgeois society. It can secure the knowlc
~e authentic concept of universal history il a messianic concept. Universal history, as it is understood today, is an alTair of obscurantists.
IN J8.3]
-[be now of recognizability is the moment of awakening. (Jung would like to distance awakening from the dream.) [N 18,4] In his characteruacion of Leopardi, Sainte-Beuve declares himsdf ""persuad«l ... that the fuU value and o riginality of literary criticism depends on its applying itself to subjects for which we have long possessed the background and all the immediate and more distant contats." C.-A. Sainte-lkuve, PorlTai/,J contmljHr raim, vol. 4 (Paris, 1882), p. 365. On the other hand, it must be admitted that the absence of certain of the conditions demanded here by Sainte-Sc.uve can have its value. A lack o f fee ling for the most delicate nuances of the text can itself cause. the reader to inquire more attentivcly into the least of facts within the social relations underlying the work of art. Moreover, the insensitivity to fine shades o f meaning can more readily procUl~ for one (thanks to clearer apprehension of the contours of the ""'Ork) a certain superiority to other aitics, insofar as the feeling for nuances d oes not always go together with the gift for ana1ysis. [N 18a,1] Critical remarks on technical progress show up quite early. The author of the treatise On Art (Hippocrates?): "I believe that the inclination . _ . of intc.lligence ls to discover anyone of those things that are still unknown, if indud it is btt/(T to haut discolMrtd them /lran not to halJt: ,Ulnt! so at all." Leonardo da Vooci: "H ow and why I do not write of my method of going undern'ater for as long as I can remain there without eating: if I neither publish nor divulge tlus information, it is be· cause of the wickedness of Olen who would avail themsc:lvtS of it to commit murder at the bottom of the sea-by staving in ships and sinking them with their crews." Bacon : "In , .. 1llt: Nw Atlantis, . . . he entrusts to a specially chosen commission the responsibility for deciding which new inventions will be brought before the public and which kept secret.r' Pierre-M axime Schuhl, MaclJini.sme d fthi/osofthie (Paris, 1938), pp. 7, 35. -"TIte bombers remind us of what Leonardo da Vinci expected of man in Bight: that he was to ascend to the skies 'in order to seek snow on the mountaintops and bring it back to the city to spread on the: sweltering stTeets in summer" (Schuhl, Mach.inismt! tt phJ1ruophie, p. 95). [N18a,2)
It may be:: that the continuity of tradition is mere semblance. But then precise1y the persistence of this semblance of persistence provides it with continuity. [Nl9,I] l:)rOllilt , all rf)po ~ of a dla ti nn (from a le lll!r by
I' r~ e:r;.te pl Ihe o ne for whom it waits, according In a df!li Ullativn wl, ic h is ill de ~ liIlY:- Corrcsponrlllflc{' generfltc rlc Man:el I'rO/U f . \luI. I . /.;I'ltre3 U H.ofler! de M"nles'll/ifJrI (pari! _ 19311), PI' . 73-74 .'.... [NI9,2]
l11c pathological clement in the no tion o f "culmre" comcs vividly to light in the effect produced on Raphac=.l, the hero of 'flit Wild AJJ~ Sk.in, by the enonnous stock of merchandise in the fo ur-story ancique shop into which he \'t:ntures. "To begin with, the stranger comp.1..I'Cd . .. three showrooms-crammed with the relics o f civilizations and religions, deities, royalties, masterpieces of art. the produ ctS of debauchery, reason and unreason-to a nurror of many faer.ts, each one representing a whole ....,orld .. .. The young man's senses ended by being numbed at the sight of so many national and individual existences, their au thenticity guaranteed by the hurnan pledges which had survived them .... For him this ocean of furnishings, inventions, fashions , works o f an, and ~lics made up all endless poem .. .. H e clutched at every joy, grasped at every grief. made all the fonnulas of existener. his own, and ... generously dispersed his life and fcclinS! over the images of that empty, plastic nature . . .. He fd t smothered under the d ebris of fifty vanished centuries. nauseated with this surfeit of human thought, oushed under the weight of luxury and an.• . . Alike in its caprices to our modem chemistry, which would reduce CKation to one single gas, does not tile soul distill femuJ poisOIlS in the rapid concentration of its pleasures .. . or its ideas? Do not many men perish through the lightning action of some moral acid or other, suddenly injected intO their innermost being?" Balzac. fA /tau lk cJw.grin, «I. Flammarioll (Paris), pp. 19, 21 - 22, 24_~1 [N19,3] Some theses by Focillon which have appearances on their side. Of course, the materialist theory of art is interested in dispelling such appearance. " ~ have no rig4t to confuse the state of the life of fo m lS with the state of social life. The time tha~ g1vtS suppon to a work of art does no t give definition either to iu principle o r to its specific foml " (p. 93). "The combined activity of the Capetian monar~ cllY, the episcopacy, and the townspeople in the development of Gothic cathe· drals shows what a decisive influence may be exereised by the alliance of social forces. Yet no matter how powerful this activity may be, it is still by no means qualified to so lve problems in pure statics, to co mbine relationships of values. The vario us masons who bonded two ribs of stone crossing at right angles beneath the north tower o f Bayeux .. . I the creato r of the choir at Saint-Denis. were geometers working on solids, and not historians interpreting timc. [I!} TIle mo.~t ancntive study o f the most ho mogeneous milieu, of the mosl closely woven concatenation of circumstances, will not serve to give liS the design o f the towers of L., on ~ (p. 89). It would be necessary 10 follow up o n these reflections in order to show, firSt, the difference between the theory of milieu and the UlCOry of the forces o f production, and, second, the difference between a " ~construction" and a historical interpretation of works. Henri Focillon, Vie deJ fl nnes (Paris, 1934),61 [N 19a, I)
Focillon on technique: "It has been like some observatory whence both sight and study might embrace within one and the same perspective the brreatest possible number of objectS and their greatest possible diversity. For technique may be interp~ted in many various ways: as a vital force. as a theory of mecha.ni~, or as a mere convenience. In my own case as a historian, I never regarded technique aa the automatism of a laaft,' nor as .. , the recipes of a 'cuisine'; instead I saw it aa a whole poetry of action and ... as the means for attaining metamorphoses. It has aJways scented to me that ... the observation of technical phenomena not only guarantees a certain conuoUable objeCtivity, but affords entrance into the very heart of the problem, by pmenting il 10 UJ in the same. t~ andfrvm the same jXJillt f!f umu aJ il iJ presented to 1M artUl. " The phrase ItaliCIZed by the author marks the: basic error. Henri Focillon, Vie desformu (Paris, 1934). pp. 53-54.'" [N 19a,2] The " activity on the )lltrt of a style in the process of selI-definition .. , is generally kllllWII IlS uu 'evolution,' this term being here understood in its broadest and most general scnle, Uiologicai llcience checked and modulated the concept of evolution wit h painstaking cure; a rehat.'Oiogy, 0 11 the other hand , took it limply all . , .• metho.1 of c1alllliliea tion. I bave elsewhere pointed out the d angers of 'tlvo)ution': ill! deceptive ortll:rlillc8I. ita sing.le-mindfti diref:tness, its use, inlhose problematic cases ... , of the eXI)etlil!llt of ' tra llilitions,' its inability to ma ke room ror the rl!volutjon ary enl!rgy of inventors." n ellri Focillon , Vie de! form e! (Paris, 1934), "p . 11- 12.""' [N20]
o [prostitution, Gambling] Love: is a bird of ptwngr, - NI1IIINII.U% liJhk",u: (/t I'tuu, /II/ ObHnoa!K,m ~1tT Ie.J III«fm tt UJtIgtJ tkJ RuiJinlJ lUI rot/ItflnlCnmtt dll XJ),· JiHk ~ 11;128), \"01. 1, p. 37
... in an aKade, \"\bmcll ~ as in thcir boudoir. - Brazier. Gabriel a.nd
DuITler$ilIl,
u s ~s din
nt(.J, flU
u. Gllm't
didarit (Paris, 1827), p. 30
Hasn't his eternal vagabondage everywhere accustomed him to reinterpreting the image of the city? And doesn', he t:ransform the arcade into a casino, into a gambling den, where now and again he :stakes the red, blue. ydlow plOTU of feeling on women, on a face that suddenly surfaces (will it rrtum his look?), on a mute mouth (will it speak?)? What, on the baize cloth, looks o ut at the gambler from every number-luck, that is-here, from the bodies of all the wm:nm, winks at him as the chimera of sexuality: as his type. is nothing other than the number, the cipber, in which just at that moment luck will be called by name, in order to jump immediately to anomer number. His type-that's the number that pays off thirty-six·fold, the one on which, \vithout even trying, the eye of the voluptuary falls, as the ivory ball falls into the red or black compartment. He leaves the Palais-RoyaJ with bulging pockets, calls to a whoR:, and once more celebrates in her arms the communion with number, in which money and riches, absolved from every earthen 'weight. have come to him from the fates like a joyous embrace returned to the full . For in gambling haJl and bordello, it is the saDle supremely sinful delight: to challenge fate in pleasure. Let unsuspecting idealists imaginc that sensuaJ pleasurt:, of whatever stripe, could evcr dClem llne Ul(' theological concept of sin . l11e oribrin of U"ue lechery is nothing else but this stealing of pleasure from O Ui of the COuI'Se of life with God, whose covenant with -such life resides in the name. 11le name itself is the cry of naked lust. TIils sober thing, fateless in itself-the name- knows 110 orner adversary than the fate that takes its 'place in whoring and tha[ forges its arsenal in superstition. 11ll1s in gambler and prostitute that sUpt"rstitiOIt which arranges the 6gmcs of fate and
nus
,
! !
,i
,,f
;
l
fills all wanton behavior with fateful forwardness, fateful concupiscence, bringing [0 1,1] even pleasure to kneel before iu throne. "When I lurn hack in thought 10 tiUl Salon ties Etrangeu, ali il was in the secoud decatle of our (."eut u r y. I see befor e me the fin ely etched reatu res anti gaUant figurec of the 1:lungarilin Count lIunyady, the grea test gambler or his day, who back then look all society's b reat h away.... Flunyad y's luck for a long time was extrao rru· nar y; no hank could withstand his assault , and his winnings must have amo unted. to nearly two million rru ncs. His manner was surp risingly calm and extremely distinguished ; he sat there, as it a ppeared , in complete equ animity, his right hand in the hrealit of his j ac ket. wlLile thousands of fra ncs hung u pon the raU or a card or a roll or the dice. Hili valet , however, confi tled to an indiscreet friend that Monsiellr 's lU!rv(.'lI were lIot so sleely all he waoted people 10 believe, and Ihal of • morni ng the cOllnt more oft en tha n not would bear the bloody trace& or hill nw , which ill his cxeitemelll he had d ug into the flesh or his chest as the game was laking a tiangerouif tur n ." Capt ai.1I Cronow, Aw del" g r ossen Welt <Pariser lind Londotler SillenbiMer, 18JO-1860. ed . I-Ieillrieh Conrad > (Stuttgart . 1908), p . 59. 1
[Ol ,'[ On IIle way BlUchcr ga m.b lcd in Paris. see C r onow's hook , Aw del" grosse n We"
It is only by comparison with the ancien regime that one can say that in the nineteenth century the bourgeois takes to gambling. [0 1,4] The following account shows very conclusively how public immorality (in contrast to private) carries in itself, in its liberating cynicism, iu own corrective. It is reportcd by Carl Benediet Hase, who was in France as an indigent tutor and who sent letters home from Paris and other stations of his wandering. "'As I was walking in the vicinity of the Pont Neuf, a heavily made·up prostitute accosted me. She had on a light muslin dress that was tucked up to the knee and that dearly displayed the red silk drawers covering thigh and belly. '71enJ, tifflS, man ami,' she said, 'you arc young, you're a foreigner, you will have need of it." She thcn seized my hand, slipped a piece of paper into it, and disappeared in the crowd. 11un.king I had been given an address, I looked at the missive; and what did I rtad?-An advertisement for a doctor who was claiming to cure all imagin· able ailments i.u the shortest possible time. It is strange that the girls who are responsible for the malady should here pul in hand the means to recover froID it." Carl Benedict Hase, Briefi lIOn tier Wamkrung und aUJ ParU (Leipzig, 1894), pp.48-49. [01,5)
A gallcry of thc PaJais·RoyaJ. From a watcrcolor cmitlcd La Sm-h·t du nllmiro 113 artis t un. ~llown, 1815. Scc:01 ,3. '
··Ali ~or II Ie vlrlue · f 0 WOlllell , Illave Lut U llt' rC~ I'0 ll se to lIIukc to thoile who wo uld ltsk me abollt this: it slrongly resembles lhe cu r tai ns ill theaters . ror their pettiCOl.Ill! riilt! each evening th r~ timcs r ut hel' thalt ollce," Comte Horl.lee (Ie VieJC~8lel t Memoira &/Jr Ie regne de Napoleon 1~1 (Pa.m. 1883), vol. 2, I). 188. (O l a, l )
"HirolldeJiu-women who wOrk the window." Levic-Torca, ParU-Nocmr (Po.uis, 1910). p. 142. -[be windows in the upper StOry of the arcades are choir lofts in which the angels that men call "swallows" are nesting. [0(a.21 On wh.·u is "dose" (Veuillot: " Paris is musty and closej in fashion : the "glaucous gleam" under the petticoats, of which Aragon Speaks.1 The corset as the torso's arcade. The absolute antithesis to this open·air world of today. What today is de rigueur among the 1000"C5t class of prostitutes-not to undress-may once have been the height of refinement. One liked the woman rdroullie, tuchd up. H essd thinks he has found hen: the origin of \o\tdekind's croties; in his view, Y*:dekind's fresh·air pathos was only a bluff. And in orher respects? 0 Fashion 0 (Oh,3] On the dialectical fu nction of money in prostitution. It buys pleasure and, at the same time, becomes the expression of shame. "I kncv.'; says Casanova o f a procuress, "that I would not have the strength to go without giving her some· thing." 1bis striking admission reveals h.is knowledge of the most secret mecha· nism of prostitution. No girl would choose to become a prostitute if she counted solcly on the stipulated payoff from her partner. Even his gratitude, which perhaps results in a small percentage more, would hardly seem to her a sufficient basis. H ow then, in her unconscious understanding o f men, d oes she calculate? Ths we cannot comprehend, so long as money is thought of here as o nly a means of payment o r a gift Cenain.ly the whore's love is for sale. But not her client's shame. The latter seeks some hiding place during this quarter·ho ur, and finds the most gcnial : in money, There are as many nuances of payment as the~ are nuances of lovemaking-lazy and swift, furtive o r b rutal. What does this signify? The shame-reddened wound on the body of society secretes money and closes up. It fonus a metallic scab. VW:: leave to the roue. the cheap pleasure of believing himself devoid of shame. Casanova knew better: impudence throws the first coin OntO the table, and shame pays out a hundred more to cover it.
lOla."] " T he da nce ill whic.h .. . vulgu ril Y mukcs its a ppcarallt'e with IIDexumplcd impu ~ dellt.."e ill tilt' traditiunal FrelJe-h \llIafir ille. When th ", dam'en mu nuge to offclld Hgailisl eve ry 1t'. IIi1er feding by their panlomimt..'"-wilhuut. IlIJwcver. going su far 1110 l u hUl'C hi ft'ar being ejl'IJII'II frum tilt" room by the Oil-dilly puJjee agcnt.8-ulen Ihill t Ylle (If Ilalll;C is cullcll I/lIil/elm . Out whc D aU m oj l'ill st'. lItimclll is Irampled UII Ly Ihc lIIil lIlWr uf dl c c1ull cj u g . whl'lI at l a~t. aft c r 11:lIgL h)' IH~;;itu l iu li . till' $ltrS(!fj /i1l de villc fl·d 1.I')III(lI'lI c ll \H rt't"u lllh ...hllu·\·r;; 10 111 sense of decorullI wilh lilt: c UlI lOllI ary won I,l , ·' Ounce. III<1rl' II CI;Cllll y IIr you will Ill" shown Iht' dll(lI"! '~ IIII; 1I Ihis illh'usHiI 'uli,m or. Iwlll' r. ' thi ~ Ilcgra,la liulI ' i.'l kIlO"'1I as cluJ/llie . I . .. 'I'll!" he~ tial 1!.'·USS U(' d .•• has I.,tltu II ... I'n'atillll uf it poliee onlina ncc .... MCII . al'I'orllingly, a re no l a ll uwccll U III'PCIII' al l llt"!le ImUs e.i lh~r ma.skc.1 o r ill j·Oj IUIlIi' . Thi.~ is in pa rt 10 prcvclll l hd r I,ci ng telllpl e.1 t\wil" lli s gu i ~c lu behave "till more "il{.jy bul MIMI , alii! I·hid l y. ill tlu' t'Vf; n l u Ilance r ~ Il
"y
ville. 10 make !lure he will be recugll.i~cd thereafter ami kep t fru lll rec nttldn g the room . .. . W(lIIICII, 011 the ol h!!1" 11111111 . arc 1I0t allowed 10 uppeHr ulliess t he y al"e mll.;;kcll:· Fcnli.nllllil , ' (In Ca ll . I~(lri!l "",I seille SII /onll (Oldcllhurg. 1844), vol. I. jJJl. 209. 213-2 14. [Ola.51 Comparison of today's eronc fields of action with those of the m.iddle of the previous century. The social play of eroticism rums today on the question : How far can a respectable woman go without lo sing herseU? To n=presen t the joys of adultery without its actual circumstances is a favorite device of dramatists. The terrain on which love's duel wirh society unfolds is thus. in a very broad sense, the realm o f MCree" love. For the Forries, Futies, and Sixties of the previous century, however. things ....'"Cre entirely different. Nothing illustrates this more d early than the account of the oIpensions" which Ferdinand von Gall provides in his book Paris und .uin~ SaJ{JIl.J (Oldenburg, 1844-1845)
102,11 More o n tile mania fo r mas ka: " We know from tile IIlatistics 011 prostitution t hat the (aileD ","oman taktls a ce rtain pride in being deemed by lIa tu re still wo rth y of mo t.herhood _a feeling tbat in no way ucl udes ber aversi.o n to the hardship and djsfigureme nt tllat goes along with 1h..i8 hOllo r. She Ihu8 willingly c boosea a middle way 10 ex.hibit her cOllllition : 8111: keeps it ' (or Iwo mOllths. for three montha,' naIUraU)· nOl lou&l.""r:' F. T h . \fische r, Mode und Cy" i.rmw (Stuttgart . 1879). p . 7. F a ~ h.i oll 0 (02,2)
o
In prostitutio n, one finds expressed the revolutionary side of technology (the symbolic side, which creates no less than discovers). "As if the laws of nature to which love subm.its were nOt more ryrarulical and more odious than the laws of society! The metaphysical meaning o f sadism is the hope t.hat the revolt of man \'oill take 011 such i.mcnsit.y a~ to summo n nature to change its laws. ror, with WOmen no longer wanting to endure the ordeal of pregnancy, the risks and the Sufferings of delivery and of ,niscarriage, nature: l'Iill be constrained to invent same other means for pc:.rpc:tuating humanity on this earth." Enuu3.lluel Berl, "Premier Pamphlet," Euro/JI:, 75 (1929), pp. 405-406. And in fact: the sexual revolt abrainst love not only springs from the fanatical, obsessional will to plcasUre; it also aims to make narure adaptable and o~d.ient [Q this will. The rrailS in question here appear mo re dearly still when prostitution (especially in the cynical form it took toward the end of the century, in the Paris arcades) is regarded less as the opposite than as the decline of lave. It is then thai the revolutionary aspeCt
of this decline ruses, as though of its own accord, with the very same aspeCt in the decline of the arcades. [02,31
'·Tahun. Tallc),rllntl . Un8llini . Dalzltc"-nameJ us gamhlertl ill EJollnr,J G.,urd oll . U!I f"(J llchellrs lIe flliit (pllris . 18(00). p . I '~ . [02a.41
Feminine faun a of the arcades : prostitutes, griseues, o ld-hag shopkeepers, female street vendurs, glovers, dnnoiullts.-This last was the: name, around 1830, for [02,41 incendiaries disguised as women,
" I submit IIHlt II,,~ pu !~ ioll fur gamhlillg iJi IIII' lIohlesl (If aU p3U.iOIlS. hci-ause il t'(llII p rt'lieruh alliliheni. A seriell Hf lucky r olls !O \' I'I me more fJl~as ure than a man ",ho d<)el! nol gamille clln have over a l:tCri,}j1 uf several yean!. I play by intuition . ptl r {"esprit- d ull is 10 lill y. in Ille nU)~ 1 kc:t'nl y (('il Itnd deU('ale mallner. Do you think I recugnize gain ollly ill It'mlS of till: goM Iha l comes my way? You are mistaken . I see il ill term;; of 111f" j oys ...·hid. gold procures. anti I SII\'ur tll t'm 10 the ful l. T ht'ile joys. vivid and lI('orc.hing a8 lighilliug, urI' 100 raJjitl-frre 10 become tlistllSleful , and IQO di vt'f"ie 10 bt'(olne h.-.ring. Ili,'e It IlIlIulred lives ill olle. If it is a vopge. it is Uke Ihal of all clectrit' s park .... If I keep my fi Sl llhul tight. and if I huM 01110 my hanknoleil. il is he.uuse I kllOw IIH~ value o( time too well to III)t':nd il Like other Illen. Ttl give mysdf to Oll t) plea5urr alolle ,",'ould calise me to IOlle II thousand uthers .... I have II pir itllul ph' allures , IIlul I waul 11 0 other s." Edoua r d Gourdoll , LeI5 FlIltchell r5 (Ie 1I1l;t (P aris . 1860), PI' , 14- 15. Tire passage cited from 1,11 Bru yi:;",~-Co mpare : ' 0 Wha t? .1 no lunger ael us I might choose.?" Wa lle nstein . S {02a,5]
Arollncl 1830: "'T he Palais. RoyaJ is stiD e,oough in fashion tbat the relltin& or chairs hrings ill IIOme 32.000 francs to Louis Philippe, and the tax on gaming.ome five anti 11 half million to the treasury.... The gambling hou8elI of the PaJai, · Royai rival those of Ihe Ce.rcle tleil Etrallgen lin the Rue Grange-Ba leUere II nti of Fras· eati on the Rue de Richelieu,"
Rites de passage-this is the designation in folklore for the ceremonies that attach dealh and birth, to marriage, puberty, and so forth. In modem life, lhese tl'ansitions are becoming ever more unrecognizable and impossible to experiroce. \'\~ have grown very poor in threshold experiences. Falling asleep is perhaps the o nly slIch experience that remains to us. (But together with this, there is also waking up.) And, finally, there is the ebb and How of conversatio n and the sc:xual pcnnutations of love-experience that surges over thresholds like the changing 6gures of the dream. "How mankind loves to remain transfixed," says Aragon, "at the very doors of the imagination l" Paysan
10
Under the northeaijl peristyle of the Palais-Royal lay Ihe Cafe del Aveuglee, ''"There. a half·do!;cn blindmen from the Quinze· VlDgt~ H081'itaiunceasingly per· furllll.>d more or leu deafening music from six 0 ' dock in the evening 10 one o'clock in 111t~ morning; for the uliderground eslablishmt' ntij were ')peu to Ihe puhlic only frum tlusk 10 dawn . Tlmy were the prt!ferred rendezvous of 111tJ1ie lilJcllseti D"yadll and Nysiads. Iho~c impure Sirells who Itt leltst had til(' merit of elillferrillg mOVe-mcnt U lid life on Ihi ~ immense Luzaar of plt'3s ures-sad, somlwr ,nul lIIule Itlda}' ItS t.he hrol hds of I-Ien:ululleum ." lIiSli}ire del cafes dl1 I'liri., c.tlraill! del menwirc5 d 'un Ilil)ellr (Par is, 1857), p . 7. [02a,2] " On Ot:t·t·l).l ber J I , 1836 , nU thtl guml.ling Imuse!! Wf'r"e dOiled h y ulllhnr il ), of Ihe poliet•. At Frailcali. there WIU It Slllall riot. Thill was Ih~ IIlOrlltl hlow to Ihl' l'n IHill!loylt l. alrend y tielhroneti llinoo 1830 by the houleva rd:' DulJe(:h a lld d ' Espe:r;t'.i, lIiltoirc lIe Pu rn (Paris, 1926). p. :~89 , [02a,3]
"'T he gambling COJl ce~K ion8 inclutled the Mnison du Ce.rcle dc ~ Elrangel"s, at 6 Rue Grllug.,..Balcliere j Ihe Maison de Livr y, known as Frascati . at 103 Rile Richelieu ; the MaislI1I Dunulls, ,10 Rue dll Mont· Ula u('j lht' Muison Muri\'au.J[ , 13 Rue MariVIIW:: the Maiso n Pal)hos. 11 0 Ru t' dll TClllplc; the Mujson Dauphine, 36 Rue DuuJ,hint' ; and at the Palais-Ruyal. 110. 9 (thruugh no. 24). no . 129 (through 11 0 . L37). no , 119 (e.J[lending frum no. J(tl). no. 1:;'1 (extending fro m no. 145), These businesses, tlespite Iheir grea l numhcr. wert not t' nough for the gambler s. Specula tion brought ahuIII the opening of olher s which the poUce ....e re not always able 10 monitor effectively, The palrons playetl « urte, houillOtle. a nd baCCar a l. Theell· tah U..,brueliu were managed by ... hidl..'O us·looking old women , disgraceful remnallili of t'\'er y vice. They gave llaclilscl" es oulto he widolO's of gelU:raLs; they were I)rotected by self-slylt:d coloud s . who ref'civctl II sltare of the lake. This stale of lhings continued unlil1 837, .... hen tile gamb ling cSluhlishmcllls were shut do .... n:· £tlollard Gounlon . Le5 FOllc/lcur5 de rl uit (Paris 1860), p. 34 . [0 3. 1) Cu urdon. nMcl Ih al. in cel'win cirdl~~, IIII' galllbll'I'~ ....1' ..(' almoSI t'xclusil'eiy W(" ne u (Le5 FfJuchell r$ de '11Iil , liP . 55ff.). [03.2] ""1'lu' lull-'clHll re uf the mllllici p!tl t;1H1I'tISlIIlut un IUH'IWluH' k. pllll'ed !.i ke u feli s h al Ih(: dOflr of u gamhici' dowll 0 11 hi8 IUt'k . Ira _ rt'lIIainell i.1I the untlalil of ou r eir/'Ie. 'I'llI' wurt h), I ronpcr, hdj~villS hilllildf slatiolll'll tiU' rt' to pll y hOIl.)r to I.he guel ls 01 ~O lile rl"·cplioll . was I!rcli lly II lIIazcll al 1.111' ~ i I ClU!c of tllf' ;l11'ecl allll Ibc house . .... hen ~ ud tl,· nl )' ..a t a rolUllilUlC 0 ' cI,)ck in lire lIIorlliu j;. 1111" iilU l " ielilll tile green lullics rellt l·neel. Ali UII other cvelliuI!JS . uml til!tijJilt· lhc infiul'ut,,, 'If Ilrt' ff' lis" . the ga ml,I"r had 101;1 heavily. He rings Ihe heU ; no oue clime . l.Ie rill&! again ; lIothulg SliM! UI th .. IUdge of the. slcelling Cerberus, an'd Ihe J our is ullreientirlg. lmputient , irri·
tor
lult·,I. provokt!.1 ahove all IIy d Ie lu!;ses he hUll jus l sU~laiul'd , dll: lenDnt smasbes D pant:: of glass with lUll wfllking-~ ti ck 10 ruuse the porte r. He re the mmudpul guardamUll . untillhen a merl' sl'ec:.tator of this nt)(:lurnal Sc.C Ilr.. bt:!ievd! it is his duty to intcn ·t:nt:. lie s toops down . lleizclI the troublclllakf'r by lilt: collar. Iwisu him onto Ius horse. aud trots IIlIIortly orr tu lUll harracks, delighll:tlto IlIu'e a dt!Ccnt pretext fur !'ullis )Ullg a fac tion hc dislikes .... E,,"plullations lIulwillu tBllding, the gamhler spe nt Ihe n.ighl 011 It c:amp cul.·' i::llo uard Gourtlun . ~JI f'OIl(: h llll rll de "uit ( Paris, 1860). pp . 18L- 182 . (03,3J
On the Plllais·Ruyul : "The former minister of polict· , Me rlin . proposed turning this palace of IlUu ry 01111 intemperate pleasure inlt) harrRe kll• Illul SCI to shul out thai vile breed of bWllanit y fr om tbeir habitual ga the ring place." F. J . L. Meyer, Fragment#! lUU Parn i". IV }ahr de r fran::o$;lIchen ReJmbtik lJlamLurg, 1797), vol . l . p . M. 103,4] Ot·h ·a u on the ION'lles of Montmartre : "They are 1101 wUllle n- lhey are nights," Mfred Delvau , u's Denous (Ie PlIri$ ( Paris 1860). p . 142 , (03.5]
Lsn't there a certain structure of money that can be recognized only in fate, and a certain s tructure of fate that can be recognized only in money? 103,6] Professors o f argot:" "Fbssessed of nathing more than a penea knowledge of martingales, series, and intermittences, they sat in the gambling dens from open' ing to closing time and ended their evening in those grottoes of bouillotte nick- ...... named Baural houses. Always on the lookout for novices and beginners •. _ • these bizarre professors dispensed advice, talked over past throws of the dice, predicted the throws to coltle. and played for others. In the' event of losses, they had onJy to curse the toss or pUI the blame on a drawn game, o n chance, on the date of the month if it was the thirteenth, on the day of the week if it was Friday. in the event of a win, they would draw their dividend, over and above what they . skimmed during their management of funds-a transaction which was known as 'feeding the magpie.' These operalors divided into different classes: the aristocrats (all colonels or marquis o f the ancien regime), the plebeians born of the Revolution, and finally those w ho offered their services for fifty centimes." Alfred Marquiset, ]m... d jou~urJ d'alltrr:/ou, } 789- } 837 (Paris, 19 17), p . 209. The book contains valuable information o n the role of the aristocracy and the military in the cultivation of gambling. {03a.l] Palalll- Ro yai. " The second story ill inhabited lurgely by Ihe Iligh-dass femme, perrluclI .... On the third lIoor IIl1d nu Imradis. in Ihe mamllrlill. rt':side those of II lower grade. Their livelihood 4-01l1I't'ls them 10 Ii\"l~ in U... ceulc,- of Ihe city, in the Pala is. Hoy ul. ill Ille Ru t': TrIl\·I·rlli!\:re. ami SlIrroumling areas ... , Pc rhapil 600800 live ill tlu' Pulais-Royal. Imt a fo r grealer nUIIIIH:r go walking the rl' in uu~ e vc nin p . for Ihul i;! wlwre m\.sl of till' itUers are lu be fOllllt! , On the Hue SainlHonorf: IlUtI sumf! 1t,ljorenl !l tr'~I s . al evening_ they !ltoml in II row jusl like tht'!
cahriolelll for rt': nl in th~ Palais during lin- day. Rill their IHllllhers dimilli ~ 11 as o ne "lOves furlh er away, ill tile rilY, fro m lhe Pa l ai ~. n oya l. " J . F. Bc nzellherg. IfripJe gll$ci,rieiH>n flllfe;nc r R p.ise lIf1 ch P(lriJ (Durtmuud, 18(5). vol. I , liP. 261. 263. Thl' author cSlimo lCIi lin: IIl1mhe.r of/p.mmclJ IJeNlllclJ al " H.I·ount! 10.000-'; " before t he Hev.)iulion. ul'enrding 10 a police rf'Jlort . Ih ..y lIulllht:,..~1 28.000" (p. 26 1).
103a.2J "Viet: Ilat! a';collIplis llt:d it ll ellillomary lu sk , for lu:r as fOl'the OUlers. It hilt! rdine(1 und rcnd(·rt·d dCllirable I.hc bru zen uglincss of her fn ce. Although tin: girl had 10M I1l1IlI' of t.he s uburball «juain lness of hcr origills, she hUll become-wilh her s howy jewelry a nti her phYllicu l allraclions oste ntalious ly worked up through creamsc
Lourgt:ois cUllltl t:ver succeed in comprehending th t!: phe nomena of Ihe dist ributio n of wealth. Fur. wilh th .. tlevdoJlme nt of mechanical IJroducliulI . prOperly ill depersonalized and arl'ltyt:d in thc: impersonal cnllec:tive fonn of tile joiul stuc k compan y, whose shares a l'C finally caught up ill the whirl. pool of the Stoc k Excha nge ... . They are , .. lo~ t by Olle, WO[] by ullol.her--indeed . in a manner 80 rt:lniniscent of gambling that I.he buying and !reUing of s locke is aCluaUy kn own as ' playing' the market. Modl'rn economic' tlc \·e.!opme.ot as a whole tcuds more a nel lIlore 10 Ira nliform eapilalilll society inlo a giallt inte rnatiollal ~a mhlillg house. wht:re tile bourgeois wuu and 108f:t1l ca pital in conseque.nce of e ve nts which remain unknown 10 him . . _ . Tln- ' inexplicahle' is e nthroned in bourgeois lIociely as in a gambling hall . . . . Sucee88I:' a nd failUre!!. thus arisi[]g from caUSes Ihlll ure unanticipated . gene rally unintelligible. and 1it.'Cmingiy tiependent ou ell/Hlee. predisposc the bOllrgeoifl to Ihe ga mhlel"s frallle of mint! .. , . The t!apit alis l whose furl,une is tied IIJI in stocks and bond s, wb.icb are s ubject 10 vuriationil in markel villue lilld yield for whieh he docll llol uuders land the ca llsell. i a professional gll lnblcr. The gambler_ howe\·cr . ... is II s upreml'l y s UI)Crstitiou ~ he ulg. Tile habilues of p:a,nbling ca6.ino!f alway, pn8Seu magic fnnnuJaillo conjure Ihe rllle!f. On .. will mutter a pra rer 10 Sa ini Anthon y uf Pallna or ~OIllC olher spirit of tll«· heavells ; anOlher will pluce his bel onl y jf a cerlain f'f)lo r hal won : while 1I Ihiru h!lltls a rabbit'~ fool ill his left haod : a mi so o n . 'I'h~ int'Jl:plica hlt· in ~ociCI~' ('m·e/ops the bourgeois . II ~ Ihl' illt·xplicuble in uullln:. tlu' !!tl\'age:' I)aul Lafarl,'l ... . '-ni,' Ur;;ul,' h<':1I tit's G(jll c~~lullbt!n~:' Die tlelle Zeit , 2'L IIU. [ (SllIlIgul't . \~(6). \), 512. 104 , IT II.
AII"[ph Siaht, 111>'l1linllS u certain Chicllrll II~ I'rl'lIlie r CII11I'Ul1 Ilalu'l'r al Ih l • Bill M~hilll!, allli IIH.lintains Illat he ,Ianeel\ lIudl'r dll' s Ur\'l'ilIoIWf' of tw u pvlirt' foCrgClOn l $ \\' hf,se solc reslw lIs iLililY i" to keel' a ll cyt· toll dIe Ila nring uf Ihill one IIIlln . I II '-Ul.lncf·tioll wilh Ihi,;: dw 51u tcme nl--.-ilell. willltolli SIK'dfic re(t·rcncell . in WHldeIUar Seyffarlh . lfiJhrtlehnllHigen in Pu rill. 1853 "",1 1854 (Godla , 1855), 1" U(,......
-
/I had ga me,' they Slly, They fi nd fault wil.h themselveM; d lCy ~ I " 1101 Li ll' pheDle d wir Gud ." An liiole Fran ce. Le jurl/i" t/'Ep icu re ( Pa ris) . pp . 15- 18 ,' (04a}
"" Iia t ooly the SUlte riu r ' t re ngth of t he }Joliee force ';ilD k4:t:p within certuiu barely a tll!tlUIl IC LOIIJJJ ~ til e lit-Ulali,y (.hhe l-"uris erow,I•. '· (04 .21
Bt.nlllli ;;ceks
allvocll tf! . Ihrongh eXlellsive IIrgumenla liOIl . the bellefil ll of lid· opposed to ju tlicial- llI"oecedings ugaill8t p ro~ litlites: " Thus . the j allclU ory of j ustice will 11 01 ha \'t! been p uhlid y sullied Ly a u unclean IIffair. and t1,,~ crime iii l'"ui.. heJ . b UI in u {Li ;;~' reli o u llry manner, by virtue of a p articula r "nlilllillct' of the P refe~.' 1 of Polite." F. F. A. HCra Ul!. Le, FiUes publiques de Paris el fiI /Joii!'e (IU; le$ ri git ( Pa ris and Lripzig, 1839). vol. 2, p . 50. (05, 1]
T ile " Origil1ul"- o illi rt o f primil.iw· m ll ll with 1' lI o nll UU ~ hen nl who CUll i1e seen in
the Pulais-Royal- is called ChllllrlJ(' Dudo.'! .
{04,31
" Is it an tusignilicillit delight 10 temp' Cortune? Is it a pl ea s ll ~ !lnuitl of intoxica_ ti un to !lIsle in one lic.!ond monthil , years, II whole Iifetimc of (cau lind h opcs'~ I was 1101 lell yca r s 01,1 wht'li M. Grcpind . my maHer in the junior d uu, I'cad us the faLle L 'Uomme e' Ie gellie
10
miILi s tro ti\',:-a ~
"A
( l unIcal) .. , iii Il. handsome youllg mUll , iltrong aud well built , who how It) defend ILimseU, to dress well . to d ance. Ihe ch" hue and the cancan wilh eit!ga llt:c . to be obligillg toward girls devo ted 10 the cult of VenulI, lind to pro"idl' for them in tilne8 I)f cI)nSpiCUOII8 da nger ; who knows also how to get them respecl alllilu rOI'ee Ihem to condllctlhcllIseives d ~e nt1 y.. , , Here , then . we have II dasi of individu als who . from time immemorial. ha "e dislinguished tbemselvea by their IIttracti" e a plJearK lICC, b y their exemplary eunduct. and b y the aervices they have n mdel-eU sodely. allli ",·ho 1I0W are redllce.l to dire circum. tooces." 50.000 Voleun de plus Puris. O il R i!.clu llwt;oll des UII CW" " marlollS de '" capi· full'. . cOllt re l'ordOllllu nce (Ie M. Ie Prefel d e police. concernant IesjilJe.. pu.bliqu.es; Par Ie bellll Theodore C(lIIc" n . cited in F. F. A . Beru ud, Fille. pu.bliq~. de 1'uris ella police qlli Ie. regit ( Pa ris and Leipzig. 1839). vol. 2. p. 109-110. 113114 . [The pamphlet slightl y lI utwales lhe work tha t cites it .] (0 5,2] ,"UriO Il
k1l1l"' 5
,
a
u ..
Fro m the police edict of April 14. 1830, r egulating prosti tution : " Art, (1) , , , They are forbidden 10 appear al an y ti me . or on an y prt:lexi. io the urcadCll . in the puhlic ga rdells, or on tilt: ho uleva n ls. Art . (2) Fille .. publiques lire not permitted to engage in proslitulion except ill Liceni!etl brothels (muisoll..'l de tole rance), Art , (3) fille.. isoUies-that ill to say, those who do 1I0t reside in Iiccn sed IJr utheltt-ma y not eUler these IlII use. unlil IIfl er the lighting of the Slreet laml'l ; they must I'roeeed dirt:t: t.I y Illere lilld be drt:8sed simply alld dt:c::ently.... Art. (4) They may nol , in a 5iugie el·ening. lea \'e one license" brothel to go 10 anotller, Art . (5) Unattached girls /11 11 111 lellve the Licensed "rothel, alld return home by eleven o' clock in tbe e\'cning, ... Art. (7) Lict:nsed hrothels ilh oll be indieltled h y un entry Light and, in tile ead y hOul·';. hy all older wOln an tending the door, .. , Signet! : Mangin." FWe. fl ublili lle! rle Pari.. el lu police (lui les regit ( Plin s and F. F. A: Ui·n HItI. Lt:i jJzig. 1839). \'01. 2, v. 133- 135. 10 5.3]
us
UOIILl~e" ('u rllla l"ked fU I· lilt' '. rigll(/e rl'orrlrc: lhree frult ell fur identification of a "r..,~ t il uh' Ul uJ~' r the a ge IIf twent y-o ne; faItccll frullI:il fo r illelltilica lion of ItII illicil
l,rHtll+'!: twenty-fl" e frOIll':8 for iilenlification f'illes ,m lJlil/llr.$. 0 ' 0 1. 2.> Ill). 138-J:W.
fir a "roille!
of nlloOrs. Ber ll ud . w (0 5.4]
EX I'hlliuliu II~ o(f" retl 10)" U;'I'/11111 cUllcl'r lling hill JlroJlo~l.t l~ fu r new l"I~glllati",";. ( 1) Willa re~pe('1 lu the 01~1 WtJlllan at tim thr~!lIhold ! "T he st..-eolld I.Qrligrll.llh pruhilJilS
thil! woman from va""ing beyond the dool1itep, becaUAe it uften happens that ahe has tbe audacity to step out aDd iutercevt passersby. Wit.h my "WII eye~ I huveaeen thel:le panders take nU'n hy the IIrm or hy the coat and , so to II peak . (urce tlll:m to enter tJu~ir housea." (2) With respect to the interdiction on commerce for prostituln: " . would IIlao forbid the opening of IItorell or shups in which fille, pubIUJIU!:' are inlllaUoo as millineNl. teamslresses, seUers of perfume . and the like. Worn!':" who work in thela t tores and shops will station thelmelvel! al open doo rs or windows in order to lend l i~ab to pallSenby... . There are othcrs more ingenioull who do.e their d oor s aud window. but send signals through glass parte. unprovided with curtains; or the curtaint are left open just enough tu permit easy communica tion bel ween outside and interior. Some o( thetle women rap against the front of the IIbop each time a man pasSeti by, so that he r etnnll to the IIIHlI where the noise was heard; and then . uch scandalous lignll and beckoningt ensue aa cuuJd escape the attention of no one. All these shops are found in the arcadell!' F. F. A. Beraud, Le, Filla publiq~ de Puris e' 1(1 police qui Ie. rpgi' (lJariMand Leipzig, 1839), vol. 2, pp. 149-150, 152-153. (05a, l ) Bi:rIlud declures himscl! in favor of an uniimil,ed number of brothels. " Art. (13) Every woman or girl or legal age who has s uitable space in her living quarters ( • • lealll twO rooms), and who is authorized by her hus band if she is married , ... will he able, al the proprietor or principal tenant or the house-llhe inhabits , to become mistreu or tJltl. housc and to obtain a license for operating a brothel ." Her aud. UI Filb?, publique, de Poru, vol. 2. p. 156. [05a,2]
"
Her aud'! proposal ill that every girl, even a minor, , hould. if she so deairet, be regis tered aJ a prol titute. From bis argument: '''Your feelinS of dut y demands. continual l urveillanee to protect thelie children . . .. To s purn them i, to take on one', head all the con&equencell of cruel abandonment . . . . They must be regiatered , then . aDd s urruunded with aU the vigilance of authurity. instead of returning them to an atmosphere of corruption, lei U I t ubmil tbese hardl y nubile girl. 10 a regular life in a houlie specially designed to receive them... . Notify their pa .... cots . AI 80011 as they undenta od that the di.ssolute life of their daughten will remain undisclosed, thai it is a sec:ret religiously guarded by the administration, they will consent once again to acknowledge them:' Beraud . Le, Fille' publiqlUll , (vol. 2,> PI' . 170-171. 105a,3] " Why d01l' 1 ... the police allow. . sOllie or the mistresses of the better-known hOIlHe8 of prostitution to give ... evening parties, ball, . alul concerts. with the addition oC lables for i:t:arte? Theil , at least, Ihe shurpers could he ca re.fuUy watched , whereas in other circles (gambling houses are meant] this is impossible. aee.ing that police action ... there is ... virtuaUy niL " F. f . A. Uha ud. Le, Filk. ,mblique$ de l'aria el lUllfllicequi kl regi, (Paris and Leipzig. 1839), vol. 2. p. 202.
[OO,I[ " There ure. ... epochs. !!eDSon" of the year evo!;n , which are fatal to the vi rtue of a grellt ma ny ylllHlg Purisie""el . During these pe riods , in the Licen.set.l brollll·.11Ii and
e1gt~whe re . thc inve8tigatio n ~ of the police turn IIJl man y more girls cl1gugell ill illidt
P"ostitulion tllan Juring aU the rest of Ihe year. I have often inquired into the •.uu~eg of these peri.,dic Burges uf debauchery, bot there illn ' , an yone--e.vell in the J}d tUilliSlration- who call a n ~ we r thi ~ ,(ueuiun . I huve to rei), on my own observaliolls bere. 111111 . after lIIuch lH:rlleverallce, I hani finally sueeeeded ill eliscovering diC" tnle print:i ple of thig illerca8e in prostitution ... a t .. . certain times of the yea r. . . . With the approach of New Year'. Day. oCthe Fea!;t .,( Kings , and the ft'stivalli of the Virgin .... girls like to 19"e a mi receive presents or to offer bea uliCui hOlHlucts; they al$o want a new eif'en rur lill'mseh 'es. or a hat in tJle newest fa8ilion , and, lack..ing the necessar y pecuniary means .. .. they turn for some d aYI to prostitution 10 a<:quire such mellns . . . . lIere, then , ar e the motives for the n-c rudesct!.l1ce ill aelS of d ebauchery al certaill intervals and during certain holiclays." f. F. A. Be.raud. Le, Fille. publiquel de Pa m et 1(1 police qui b?& regit (Paris ;Inti Ldpzig. 1839), vnl. I , pp. 252-254. [06,2] Againlit the medical examination at police head tIUa rh:r s: "Every woman seeD "" alking alollg the Rue de J erusalem , either to or from the IHllice iltation there, is immedilltel y stigmatized with the oamefille pubfique. .. It is a reguJar scand al. 011 the days sct aside Cor vi8 it ~, one always find s the approaches to the station overrun by a large number or men awaiting the appearance of these uuhappy creatures. kllowillg. lUi they do . Ihat dmse who Icuve by the dispensary have been deemed heulthy:' F. F. A. Derau!!. u s Filkl publie/ue, de Pari" vol. 1. pp. 189-
190.
[oo,3[
The l oretU~8 prererrCfI the neighborhood aro und Notre Dame de Lorette because it ""as new. and becIlUSf'., as lhe first oceuplluts oCthe n:cently constructed buildinAl, they paid luwllr !'enUi. (06,4)
"U it is a different Bort of allure that yo u seek , go to the Tuiieries, to the PalaisRoyal, or to the DouJevard dCi haLielli. There you will see mo re than one urban siren !!eated on a chai r, her fect reilling un another chair, while beside her a third chair 1ie4 vacant. It i.tl a magnet for the ladie, ' man .. . . Thc milliners' , hopl ... likewise offe.r a muJtitude {If resources for ent.husiasu . There you dicker over hats-pink. greell. yellow, lilac. or plaid . You agre.e on II price: you give yo ur address : and next day, at the appoi nted hour, you ilee arri ve at your plae:e not only Ihe hut h ul the girl who WIUI Jlositiunt..-d behiull it , and who Willi crimping, with ,1,.lleah' lingcril, the ga ute, Ihl" rihbon, or Sllllle other' frill so plea~ing In th;~ ladil·Ii.·· F. F. A. 8haud. I.e' Fillc. publilIIIC .• d~ Pild.; Preceriees d '/Ule notice ri(JIfI: S llr Itl pros tl~tlltio" dll~;; lc.~ , fi ve" peC/pllls de lu terre, by l\1.A.M., \' 01. I , {06a.lJ pp. "ii- dv t Prauetl.
,.;.10-
"1'lIl1t the numher of Jillcs pllb/i'/UC:S al first S t"CIIIS \'er y grt'ul is owing 10 a ~ ort lIf IJliantaslllago ri a prolluccu by IIII' cumi.uSll und goingli of tllese WOlllen along a rouline cin~ ujt. which has thl' effect of mu.lti plyil1g tllt;m to infmilY.... AIMing III thi ~ illUsion is t.he fuct Ihat. on II sinpe evening. thejillf' pllblique very ofh:1I spuru Inultip l ~ dillguist!8. With 1111 eytl jU~ 1 the l ea ~ t Lit pru(:ticed . it ill easy 10 C'onvince
onellClfthat the woman who at eight u'd ock is drCl8e(1 in a rich Ilnd elegant outfit is the same 100'110 8Jlpearll a, a chl':llp gr~clle al nine, and who will show herself a l ten in II peasanl tln'lili, It iHthill way al uU points ill Ihe eapitullo whidl prostitlltl.... are Iluhit ll ully .lruwlI. Fur exulliple: follow onc of thelle prill down the boule\·a rd . between the I'urte S lI.inl ~ Martin 8ml the I'ortc Suint -Ilenis, She i ~ attired ror the nonce in a hal with reallier s lind a silk guwu C(>ven-d by II 8i1a ",·1. She lurm into the Rue Saini-Martin . keeping always 10 uU' right-huntl lIitle, COlllell to the IIl1rNJW stl'I..'t!l8 Ihlll border the Rue Sa int-Denis . und enters one of thl; IIUlllerou.!! Louse8 of Ilelllluchery located there. A short liln .. later. IIhe comes out wearing her gray gown or r ustic weed.!!." F. F. A, Ueraud . Les FilIe, publiqlle8 de Paru (l~ris and uipzit:. 1839). vol. I. PI" 51- 52 . 0 Fashion 0 [06a,2j u !! Filles de marbre
0 .. th" D<JOr or Ihfl Stock EJl.c h .. n~. a. un o ur parquet . \ 'n u
come lake your ~h a lll't:tI.
wa ~("rwhal
)'uu
rna )':
lte.1 an,I 1,1""k .Il l . ren te d quoro n'c. rise II lId (all III Ihfl lJour«.
or CVf' r y Iflu
"",I " ' ·... r y lI"ill are I'I)uall)' The H'\lI.r cl'.
FI'" if "Ia,'ill! 11,t: markel is j" ~llike our roule tt e , Why "rMtril,,' Ihe lalll'r alllltll.: former . h"' ~
Louis Bourlil·r. :l tltlrI'~sel's (i
S furl t't!~
r;
I'occa~ion
de 1(1. loi (Jlli sUPllrim e III ferme des jew:; (0 7.6)
III Chtwlbre (pari,. lRJ7).
A grell t Pl'illl (lilllOgrllph) from 1852, Mllison tJe j eu
JIoL\l . ThcOtlore Barriere a ud Lambert Thibuusl: performed for the firet time. in I~ari!l, al the T heatre Ilu Vaudeville, May 17 . 1853. The fir st ac t h as the main c!lsractcrs uI'pea ring all ancient GreekH; lht: hero , Itaphuel, who laler dies for love uf the marble maiden. Marco, i.s here the sculptor Phillias, who creales the figures of marble, Th .. IIcl closes with a smile from the slatues: the y remained motion1ess when Phidiu8 promisell them fame, bul turn smiling to Gorgia 8. who promises tht:1Il 1Il0ney. (07,IJ
in l~ris uu!re a re two kind s of women . just as there an! two kinds of honsl'S ... : the bourgeois house. where one lives onl)' lifter signing a lealle. and the rooming hOllse, where oue lives by ule monih . . . . I-low are they to he distingui&hetl? .. , By Ihe sign .... Now, the outfit ill the ilign of the female . . . , and there are outfiu of slIeh doquence thai it is absolutely a8 if you could read on the second floor the advertilleillent, ' Furnished Alutrlmenl 10 Let '!" Dumanoir and Th . Barriere, Le~ Toilett es toptlselue,: Co medic en lUI (l et e ( Pun.. 18S6), p . 28. " YOU !Iee, •••
107,2J Nicknames of the drum I:orps ul the Ecole Polytechni
",'cre " ariuusly priced . lIecol'dilig Ii) the districts in wbit h they lived." Gding from the cheaper to the more expensive: Rue (Ie Grammollt, Rue du Helder, nues Saint-Lazart' and Chaussic--d ' Alitin. Fuuhourg du Roule. Paul IPAriste, 1.0 Yil! e' Ie nW,lde du boulevard, 1830-1870 (Paris <1930»). PI" 255-256. (07a,2j
" Lt>rd lt8
" Women a rc 1I0t allowed in the.S tock Ell-change when price' a re being quoted , but Ihey call bl' IIt!eIl stalliJilig a round in grOUpli outside. impatientl y awaiting tbe great orad.: of lile day." Acht Tase ill Paru (Paris . Jul y 1855), p. 20. [07a,3j ~ ln the thirteenth arronlJwfflImJ there are women who expire as they begin to make love; they whisper to love a lasl sweet nothing." Louis lA.uine, I.e 'Ji-eiu'hne Arrolldiss~7IIrot de Paris (Paris. 1850). pp. 219- 220. A nice expression for tbeLady ofCamcilias, who appeared two years later, <See OlOa,7,) (07a,4)
At the tillle of the Restoration : '·It was DO disgrace to gamhle. . ThNJugh the coming aUfI goin g of lIoltliers. who were alll)ost always adept al game!! of chance . tile Na poleonic wars luuJ ~ prcad abrtlllll the pleasure of gamhling." Egon Caesar Coute COI·ti . Dcr- Zmti)f'rer 0 0" Homburg ulld Monte Curio (Leipzig ( 1932»). Il.30. [07a,5J JUllual'Y I. 18JI.I. " Aftel' the 11I'ohihition , dIe FI'ench bankers in the Palais-Roytll , 11('lI u7.,-·! awl Chaberl. 11"purted for Ua.len-ButICIi lind Wieshaoell. and many em· ,,1"),I"'s went 10 P Yrillon l , Aachen . Spa . and d iewhere." Egon Caesar Collie Curti . /)(' r lllllifflrcl' V(JII JJ om/J//rg !lit" MotHe Carlo (uipzig), pp . 30- 3 I . [07a.6J I-'r"lII M. J . Ducos (d(' C(Jllllriu). Comme nt on se mine Ii hi Bourse (Paris, 1858): " 111 III> ""ay Ilcsirinj; 10 a lllu·k I" gilima te rig.hts. Ilul\'e nuthing 10 say ugainst the ""rinus VPt'I';Iliuns of IIIl' Stlll'k MUl'k('l . operutionll fnr whidl ! tockbroker s wcre ~ l'cci li! · n.lI )' I·rt'lllt'ti. My "riticislll COllcerns Iht! COllllnissitJllS charged 0 11 Iictil.i tJu ~ IIHu·kets., . . as well"" the usurio us ellrnin gs" (" .7). " Nu matter how fa"orahleit Illil;lu huppe n 10 lw. 1.llI'rt· is 11 0 luck . in tllf' "Ioying of the Siock Exchaugc. thaI
could withlltand the exorhitant com1l1l8610U& of the Ilockllroker.s. , .. On the Rhine, there are two gambling establishments (at Homlllirg and Wiel>hatlen) where t.hey conduct a game of Irenle el qlloroll'e in which II 8ligllt cummisilion of 62 1/ 2 cellLimej for every 100 fra ncs is d educted in advalll:e .... This iii ... one thirty. second of the Blockbruker ', c:ommiu iOIl and the earniJlglf combined . Trenle el quoronle is played for ~ a ud hlack, juilt as on the Stock Ma rkel oue plays for the nse and fa U, ""ith the difference tbll.t the odlls ar e always ulI.clly the same with the former a nd an y kind of fuud is impossible--the weak , there, heing nol at aU at the mercy o( the Ilrong"
wurnte 011 the fo sltion cor respo ndent Consta nce Aubert , who had ItII imJlortant " osition 111 Le TempJ. II.nd whose arLides were paid for with (Ieliveries of faeltionIlhle itemll from t.he IlUlISCllllboul wllieh she ha(1 wriltcn : "The pelt becOmes a true .'Iourcc of capital which . Ila y b y da y. can rlJ( the amo unl uf ....venue one ""ishl.' I to (lbtllin . AJI of Parill 1>t'Comes II. buzaar " 'here 1I0tbing ekll l>e~ tile hand that reachell (or il . It's already her-II t.jllite a while sillctl Ihis Iland was eJ(tcnded." Jules I..r.'f'omtc, l..e. l..eltrcs de VIlt! f:ngelgom , cd. Henri d ' Almer&! (Paris, 1925), I)' 190. l£('omte'lI IClIl'rI liMIt appeared ill 1837 ill the 'rIlli!perlliun' of Brussels.
In the prOVUIl:eS, s peculaLion 011 the Stock Exch ange was Ilcpelident 0 11 "getting lIews from Pans . .. about the flu ctuation!! in the eJ(ch ange of the most important 81ocks, ... SpeciaJ couriers alld carrier pigeollil had to ser ve tltis end, and one of the fa \'onte methods in a France dial , in those days, W 88 dotted with windmills was l() transmit signals [rom miU to miU . II the window of one of theM! mills W 88 opened, that meant a ri&e in prices, and the si~al was taken up by nearby mills and passed on ; if the window remained dosed. then a fa U in pricefl ""as indicated. And the news traveled in this way. (rom mill to mill, out of the capital and into the pro\·· incell," The 81I1.II C brother s. however, preferred to ma ke moe of the optical telegraph, which waa legally reserveti for the goverllment. "Olli! fiu e day in 1834, al tbe request of an agent for Blanc . a Parisian telegraphist in all official telegram &ent all H to BordeauJ( , which was supposed to indica te a riae in stockll. In order to nlark dtill letter, and abo to guard agai nst discovery. he inserted after the H • &ymbol denoting error." Difficulties cropped up aJong !ltis rout t:, alld so the BlanC!! combined this method with another. " II. for ua mple, tbe Frellcb stocks at 3 l)Ilrcclit showed an advance of at least 25 centimes, then the Paris agent for the B1ancs, a cert ain Gosmalld , sent II packet containing gloves to the telegraph official in Tours, wbose naDle W illi Cuibout , and ""ho was prudently addressed on the parcel as a manufacturer of gloves and stocking!. Hut if there was a decline of a. least the same allloWlt, tlicn Cosmll.nd sent stockingll or necktie!!. The addreae written on this pac ket carried a letler or a number which C uibout then immediately dispatched, together with tbe error symbol , in a ll official telegram to Bordeaux ," This system ftwetioned for about two yea rs. Reported in thf' Gazette de. Tribllnuux of 1837. Egon Caesa r Conte Corti. Der Zw.tberer I;o n /lomburg und Monle Ca rlo (Leipz~ <1932)), I)P' 11- 19. [08,1)
" It i ~ by lhe tl'miclicy ,If the mind caUcd rcminisccnce that the wish es of Iht' mDn ('omlelllllt:d to t.he gliuering captivit y of citic8 incline . . . toward a Slay in the coun try. lowu.rd Ilis originuilibode. or allt'asl toward the IHlSSe5sion of a l imple, tra lltluil gardclI , Ilia ,.yes DSpire 10 relit 0 11 ~omc greenery, sufficiently far away from the stre5ses of Ihe shop COlluter or the intnulive r ays of the liv~ r oom lamp. IIi,; sellse of smcU, I'onlinually assa ulted by pestilent emanaLions, longs for the s«':nt of fl owcrs. A border of modelll and mild violets would altogether ra vish hil! sellses . ... Thilj happiness ... ,Icllied him . he would push the illus.ion so far as to trausform till' ledge of his wiUllow into a hanging ga rden , and the mantelpiec.:c of Ilis unassuming parlor ifllo an enamel hed of blossolllll alld leavcs. Such is the man of tht city. and such is the source of his passion for the flowers of the fields .... Thllse reilectilJllII induced m e to set op a numbe.r of looms on which I hll.d weavert make 11t.'1!ign s imitating the flowers of naturll, ... The demand for these kinds of shawls was ellonll01.1 .... They were sold he for e being nlade: the orden for their deli,'ery strl'8metl ill .... This brilliant periucJ of shawls, thisll:oldeo age of manufaClure ... did 1I01l u8t 10llg, yet ill fran ce it r esulted in M virtual goldmine, from which f1o"" e,1 w"-lI.hh that was all the mo re cOllsiderable in that ita maio source wall foreign . AJullg with the fact of this remarkable demand , it may be of interett ... to know in wlull lIIallller it gcnerally propaga ted itself, Just as I had expected , Paris hought up "ery few s huwl5 ",'itb natural flow ers represented on them. It wall the , IlrOl'lIIces that demarllied these shawls, in prolJOrtioll to their distance from Ihe capital; and ford gn eOlintriCl, in proportion to their dista nce from Fra nce. And their reign ill llOt yel over. J stiU s uppl y countries all af'ross Europe, where there ill hll rill ya challCIl for a , hawl of cashmere hearing artificial designs ... , On the basill of ""ha t PariJ:l Ilid ri ot do in the case of sllawl8 with natural-Ho"" er design s, .. ('nuldn ' , UIIC eO lll'luile. n 'cogllizing Paris as the r eal centcr of hlSte, that the [artllt'r Olle 'gt'ls from this " itv, til .. closer one come~ to 11 11. 1111'01 illdillutiOIl~ and feelillK's; tlr, i.n IIlher worl1 8, tillit lu te alld nDturalm!ljll hllvc. ill this cue, IInthing ill ",')IIIIIIUIl_ UIIII ar.: evell lIlutlllilly l·xclusive?" J. Il" y, Mlillufact un:r IIf Cuslullcre Shu""I.'! . Etudes fUlllr .t erl/ir Ii f'hilll oire des dlfiles ( flllri s, 1823). PI'. 201- 202 . 2!H-?06 " I'"" ' " Ic ('Olltams " . on t IIefrOIlU~ " "lcce. " . - . TI, ' · ClI J III " IC D"bl" I III ,' lelille jNa UunD an 1 1I ~l: riJlt i u lI by 11 11 cli rl y rClld,'r : " This trcati ~1l on II !It:cmingl y lrivial s uhjet::1 ... is rf'llI ar kul,le fur ,1111 lIurily alill c1llgan'!t" of itll IIlyl.. , U8 Wt·U as fur an ,'rUilitioli WlJrtllY ufAn a r (' IHlrili.-l." (08a ,21
Amorous Conversations of Two C irls of the Nin eteen th Cenlllry lit Firetiide (RoDle alld Paris: Verlag GrangllzlW , Vacht' & Cie). Some remarkable forlllUl ations: " Ab , an alill clint. how l!imph: these wunhi. li nd yr t so cJ(prcssive. Look at III ~ 1I0Whow do you like my ass . th.~n . 111111 my I:Ullt , dear l ,ise?" (p . 12). " fllth e temple the ~ acrificcr. in the allus lhe fu refill g.. r as sex tOil . on the clitvri, two fingers as deat' UIIS; and thlls fll""ailed the I.!Iing8 that shuuld comc Ilwrc. ' lfmy IISS is in the right position. thell plt'asc. Ill y friend . begin!· .... The names of the t"'·o girls! Eli8e and L.i rulamin~ . [08,2]
[08a,11
"
Should the 80wer fashions of the Biedermeier period and the Restoration be linked to an unconscious discomfort with the growth of the big cities? [08a,3]
In the sixteenth section of Baudclaire's Spleen tk Paris, "t:Horloge1t me C lock>, we come upon a conception of time which can be compared to thai of the gambler.
" At Lhe beginning of the reign of Louis Philippe, public opinion was a lsft [ like dUll nf tOllay f.once rning the S tock Market] opposed to games of chance . . . . The Chamhe r of Deputies ... voted for their suppressio n , enn tho ugh the stale derived from them an a nnual revenue of twenly million fran ci . . . . Attbe 11 r"e8enl time. in Paris. play o n tbe Stock Marke t does not provide anything like t we nty million per year to the gove rnme nt ; but. o n the other ba nd , it d uet! produce at least one hundred nillLion for those stockbroke rs, o Utiti(le broken,' a nd U8urera ... who reported earnings . . . • raising al times the inleres t rate 10 above 20 per-eenl.-These htlDdred million are won from tbe four or five thousand undiscerning players who. hy tee kin g naively 10 take advan tage of one a n other. get comple tely take n themselvel!" (tha t ii, by the stockbrokers). M. J. Ducol (de GO bdrin), Comment on JC raine a 10 BourJe (Pam, 1858), Pl" v-vi. (09,1] During the July Revolution , the Stock Exchange was used al a military hOlpital and munitionl fa ctory. Prisonen were e mployed in the ma nufacture of grapes hot. See Tricolel, E.quu.e de lJuelque••cene, de l 'inlerieur de lu Bour.e <Paril, 1830>. It WIl8 al80 used a8 II treasury. Silverware looted fronl Ihe Tuileriell wa, brought there. [09,2) There were I hawl8 that took twenty-fi ve to thirty daY8 to weave.
{09,'1
Rey argueR in favo r of Frcnch cashmeres. Among other lhinp , they bave the adva ntage of ileiD~ new. Which Indian shawls are not . "Need 1 mention a U the revela it bal witnessed. a U the torrid IcenelJ-to say no more--it haa served to veil? Our modest a nd discreet Fnmchwomell would be more tha n a little enu,arralsed if they ClIme to know tlu! o rUecedent, of that shawl which makes them 10 happy'" Nevertbelell. the aut hor does not wish 10 endor st: tlle opinion acco rdin~ to which a U shawls have already been Wllm in India-a proposition just al false 81 that "which 8ays that t.he tea coming o ut of China has already beenllteeped:' J . Rey, Elude, pour servir a l'h isloire des cl,ale, (Pans, 1823) , pp . 226--227 . (09,4) The first 8hawlfl appcar in France in the wake of the Egyptian call1llaign .IO
{09,51
[09,7)
Regarding the influence of fashion on erotic life, a telling observation by Eduard Fuchs (Die KildAalll r dn- europiii.Jlnen Vii/Aer, vol. 2 <Munich, 1921>, p. 152]: "\\bmcn of th(' Second Empin= do not say, 'I lovt him,' but rather, 'I fancy
hilll'-1'ai un capn'u pour lui.'''
[09,8)
J . Pplll:o{1 dcpicts the high-kic kiu!I; leg in the callcan ..·jth the insc ription : " Preliellt arms!" Eduard Fuchs. Die Korikutur del' eurQpiiischen VOlker. vol. 2, p . 171.
[09'l, 11 "Many of the 8 aLtmle IililOgraJlh ~ puhlis hed in the 1830. featured simultaneo uli oLsct'.lIe va riatio ns for the lover of directly e rotic images .. .. Toward the end of the T hirtit!8. these lIoyeltied pan ed grad ually out of !alhion ." Eduard Fuchl , lfflLslrierle Sittengelchichte vOn! Mittellliter bil =IH · Cegen llJort: Da, biirgerliche Zeiwller. supple melll (Munich). p. 309. [09a,2) Ed uard .'ucbs mentio ns " the ullpearanr.eof a n iUustruted catalogue of prolltitutes, which coul(1 dale from 1835- 1840 . The catalogue in question consillts of twenty erotic lithographs in color. each one of which has printed at the bottom the address of a prostitute!' Fi vt' diffe rent arcades figure amo ng the fint seven addresses in the catalogue. Ed uard F ueili. 1U/I.~trie rt e Sitl ense5chichte l.'Om Mittelllfter bis zur Ge8enllJart: Da s biirgerliche Zeitalter. supplemenl (Munich), p . 157 , [09a.3)
As Enge.1s was being trailed by police agen t,. in c(l n~uen ce of stalt:mentl made by itinerant German arUsan8 (amon« whom hill agita tion , up until the weake ning of CrUo'. po~ition, had met with little SUCCC5I1). he '>'nlea to Marx : " If the sus picioUIIlOOking individ uals who have been fo Uowmg me fur the pas t fourteen days really are pol.ice s pies, ... tht'll Heloldlluarte rs will have handed o ut , ofla te, a good many udmissioD tickets to the bal, Montesquie u , Valellti no. Prado, a nd the rest. I am inde bted to M. Delestiert for an aCllu aili ta nce with 1i0llle " cry lovely grisetles and fot milc h ploisir"' u Citt.'(1 in C Ulltav Maye r. friedrich Enge/.$. vol. 1. Friedrich Engelll in seiner Friih::eit . 2...l cll. (He rlin < 1933». p . 252 . [09a,4)
Onward. my Iillten , march on, nighl and day. AI every hour. lind a t livery pril·e. to make love. Ilere below we Ire .. on~ train l'd b y (ale To _ave Ihe home lind aU re~ ,~'(:lable ,,·omen.
~.II 11148.
A. Barbie r. Satires et p ae mes: La~m'f:! ( Paris. 1837), p . 27 1; rilcd in Liefde. Le SlIjnt.Simo " i~lIIe daTI' kl polosiefra,l(;tlue <entre 1825 el 1865 (H uurlclII . 1927» , p . 125 .
[09.6J
nil a tri V thro ugh Frulwll'H Willl:-Jlr(lducilljll rq,oiollti, Eugds di~covl'r$ Ihal l'ul·II (jf tht'~e wi nCH l) rodll!'I~~ II di.ffe re nt illtuxiclI lilJII . and that with a f~w IJIIItJI'~ rOil I:all I)a~~ lIu·ough ... all illll~"III\'\Jia Lt' Slagl:lS . frum tile Musarll (1IJa \Jrille tl"> th e I'-, a rsci" "luse. rrom I.,II' 111141" glut'l y {J r t he "aIJCUII III 111(> wll ' tl ardor of r~'\I" IULi ll ll a r y fever." Ciled ill Gustav Mayer. Friedrich Engels. vol. I. Friedric h ".'I!!CU i'r~eincr Friillzeit (Ut·rli.n). p . 3 1\1. 1: [09a.5J
" After the C ufe de Paris d OHeti in 1856. the Cafii Anglai, .. ame to occup y a p08itioQ dllrin@the Second Empire correllJ,lo liLling to thai of the Cafe LIe I>ari ~ Iluring the reign of Louis Pbilippe. II W4l1 41 ta ll whitl' building with a malW of eorriLlon and innume rable public 41nLl private rooms." S. Kracaue r, Ja cques OJJfmbaeh ulld d(h l'uri.r Jeille r Zeit (A Uls tc nhuli . 1937), p. 332.13 [09a,6J
a lld yuung gi.rlll with no wurk woult! ... tlluande r . , . llldr ... hcah.h. Nearl y all of Ihcsf' IInfOI·tun !lle wo men . , . a.1"e fo rced to f",11 bank 011 the fifth quarte r of their day." j.>an Jourllc!. ,Joe5i,,-s e t chmlt5 harm O /li~ rl & ( Puris: A la Librairie Univ('ri!dlc II., Juubc rt . 2 Paua!;e du Saulllou. e l chez l'ulllellr, JUDe 1857), p, !.xxi (E(liIM'l l'l"cface). (01 0,6J
"The fadory worker s in France call the prostitution of thd r wivcs anLl daugbter . Ih .. X'~ working bour, which is lite rall y c orred." Kurl Marx . Der 'li.rtoriJehe Mate_ ri(lJi."II/l5 . cd . Landshul IIlld Mayer (Leipzig <1932 ) ), ". 318 . 11 [010,1)
"'Lc Troltoit de 13 Rue des Martyrs- cites m any of Gavami's captions but makes me ntion a l all of G uys, who nevertheless could h ave furnished the immediate model for the fo Uowi.ng description : "It is a pleasure to see them walking down . hi); asphalt pavement, one side of their dress hitched up jauntily to the knee, so as to Bas h in the S lU\ a leg fine and nervous as thai of an Arabian horse, full of exquisite quivers and trem ors, and terminating in a half·boot of irreproachable elegana=. Who cares about the morality of these legs ! .. . What one wants is to go where they go." Aifrcd Delvau, LeJ Dmou.I d~ Paris (Paris, 1860), pp. 143-44 (Ml..cs lroltoirs parisicns" <Parisian Sidewalk.s~). [01001, 1)
'1 ' he prillt selle r .. . ""illilrovide, on r equetit , the address of lhe model who has posed fo r his obllce.nc I'hotOgrulllis." Gabriel PHin , LeJ Laideur5 dll beau Paris (Pa ris . 1861 ). 1" 153. In the II ho l" of the~ imng iuJ. ob.8ccne I,iclures of individual mOlle ll! we re hun~ in the winLlow. while pielUreli of group8 we re fOIIOt! inside,
[01O,2J Dunce halls , a cconling to Le Cnricut"ri.~ te of Augus l 26. 1849: SalOIl t!u Sauva~ , Sa lon d ' Apollon, Chilleau des Brouillards, PariJ 50145 /(1 Republique de 1848. Expos ition of the City of Paris ( Paris. 1909) , p. 40. [OIO.a} '1'he regulatio n o( the hours of wo rk . . was lh~ firsl ratio nal bridle o n the Iliurde r uus , me aningless c aprices of fa s hion--caprict's Iltat consort so badly with the syste m of mode rn indus try." Footnote here; ""j ulm Bellerl remarked a ll (u buc k all 1699: ' The uncerla ult y offas hioos does inc realle neL'eII.!IitoU!l I)OOr' (Eu"1' (lbOld the Poor. Manufa clIIre8 , Trade. Plantation J, uncllmUio ralify, p. 9)," Karl Ma n: . DiU Kapital. ed , KOrllch (Berlin <1932 » . p. 454. 15 [010.' 1 Frum the Petition elel JiUe5 pub/iqlles de Pari.!
a MM. Ie PrI'/et ele
police ele"
~disee par Mlle, Pull/ille f!t "posti/tee par MM. Ie. epiciers, eabareliers, ,..
III01Wdie rJ et march(ll1dJ de comeJlible5 de la capilaie . . . ; '1 ' be bus inelill in itllelt ill IIl1fortWlatcly llwt(' ill-Ilaid , but with the compe litio n of othe r wome n and of elegant lawed, who pay 110 la xes, il has oc..:ome whoU y unprofit a hle, Or are we aU the mu re bla meworth y bc..'"Cautie w~ lakeca sb while they lak" casltnH!I'e sba",·!.;;? The cit y "harte r guaranlees pe nollul frt.-etlom 10 e veryone; if Our I)('titioll to Monsieur Ie PrHel pro\'es unavuiling. thcn we s hall .. , appl y lIIlhe Chambe rs, Othe.rwile. il would he beller 10 livI> ill the kingdom of CoICOI)!la . whl!rc girls of our sort forme,1 one uf tlu.· fo rty-four
nO
Pro l~aI of C anilll'l; To use part of the Ilroct.'1!d s fro m the slate lotte ry fur g:ullhler s who ha \'c rt'Mhed u ce rlain age.
i.ncome [010a,2)
110 8
Lotter y a gcn u: "Their s hop~ always ha ve two ur three exill and seve r al com parl"Ients. so as 10 fac ililHte the o verlHpping operations of gambling and usury and to l1 i1ow cOlls ide ration for timid l:uslomers. It i!I nol unus ual for man and wife, withUIII s Uiipectilig a t hing. to be s ilting right beside e ach o the r in these myste rious euhicles. which each thinks to utili~e so c unningl y alone," Carl C UilCav j ochmallll , Reliquien , ed . Hdnrich Zscho kke. vol. 2 (Hedlingen , 1837), p, 44 ("Die. Glilckl[010a.3) i J!iele" ( Glim eli llf C hHnCe~). " If it il the Itclicf ill my8lt'ry Ihat make!! belie vers, the n there are evide ntly morc 1,e1ieving galllblt'rs ill the worlt! thall helievillg worsh ipers." Carl CUlitav Joe!unanll . RelilJltiell , cd. Heinrich Zschokke. \,,,1. 2 ( Hcchingell, 1837), p . 46 (" Die C liick.'!lpil·it" ' j. [01 0a.4J Ael'o"d illg to Po i56on . " Mc moire ~ur It:s cil a nces ' Iue les jeux de basard . admis dOllS les ma i"Oll8 de j e ll II .. Paris. presentc nl i la ba ullue"
Cambling is the infel1l£ll counterpart to the music of the heaVt'nly hosts, {0IOa,6J O n l.I a /i- \·y·d "rOil/ rim : " I..elf f'il ks de nmrbre huel inl rollueeJ Ille a ge uflhe courlcfla u . a nd Frou/rou marked iI, e llii. . . . Froufro u hrcak, lloWIi unde r the, ..
"rain or knowing dial her lire is ruinetl , ami rmaJJ y s b~ ret u rns 10 her ramily, a dying woman ." S. Kracaller, Jacllu es Offenooch Imd dOiJ 1"n.riiJ seiner Zeit (Am. slt'rtlam , 1937). pp . 385-386. The cOIlli"d y Les Fille$ de nUlrllre was an answer to Duma'" Ltl DIJm~ al&X ccullfllias of the yea r berore. t~ [OIOa,7] " The gamhler iA driven Ly euentially narcissistic anti aggreiij,ive desires ror om.. lIivotence. These, insorar a~ tbey a re not immediatc.ly !.inked 10 dirt"(:tiy erotic desires. are char ac terized hy a greater tempural radius of extensiUIi. A direct deliire for coitus may. through orgasm. he 8a ti~ fied more rapidly tha n the narci•. sist. aggressive desire for omnipotence. T he fact that genitallt'!xuality, in even the IIIllst favt)rabl e cases. leaves a residUt: of tlissatisfaclion goes back , in turlt, to three fach : nol a ll pregenital desires . sudl as later are s ubsidiary to genitality, can be accommodated in coitus; and frum the lItandpoillt of the Oedil)US complex. the object is always a surrogate. Together with thetlC- two ... considerations !oetI ... the facl ,lUI ' the imPU88ibility of acting out largt>-scale unconsciou s aggre8sioD cOlltributes to tbe lack of latisfaction . The aggression abreacted in coitus is very much domesticated .. .. Thus it happens that the nllr ciuis uc and aggre8sive rictiull ur ulllnil)otc.nce becomes above aU a caus\! of suffering: ,,'hnever on that account hu experienced the mech ani~m or plell8ure as "brcilcted in !ame8 of chance , and pOllsesslng, as it were. cternaJ value, succwnbs the more readily to it in proportion as he i.e committed to the ' neurotic p leuure in duration ' (pfeifer); and, 88 a consequence of pregenital fixa tions, he is less ah)e to a9llimilate sucb Illeasure tu lIormal 8exulI.ut y.. .. It should also be hurTle in mind that , acco~ to Freud, the It'!xuauty or human beings bears the stamp of It fun ction that dwin· (lies. wherea" this cannot in a ny way be predicated of the aggn:uive and narcissUtic tendencies." Edmund Bergle.r. " Zu r Psychologic tiC!! Hasardspie.len," Imago. 22, no. 4 (193f1), pp. 438-440. [011 ,1]
sion to rertilize a nd give bil1h to oneRelf in an llnal birth fant aty, . ut"llas&in5 and rcplal.ing one's own flltber and mother in all endlessly escalating process. 'Thus. ill thc lil 8t an iliy@ia. die pa s~ iun fur gamhling satisfies the claim or the bisexual ilieaJ . which the lIarcissist dist'ovcrs in hinlaclf; a t stake is the rormation of a compromise between masculine. aud reminine. llctive and pa88ive. sadistic alII) lIuliluchistic; and in the end il ill the unrt'"oived decisiun between genital and anaJ liltit!u that confronts the gll mbler in the wt·\I· kllown symbolic colllrs or red and hlac k. The pll8sion for gamhlill(; Ihlls serves an au toerotic satisfal'tion , wherein iK'ttilig is foreplay. winning is orgaslII_ and 108ing is ejacu lation , di"Iecation , and t'lIstrauon .'" Edmund Berglcr. " Zur Psychologie Ilee li asardspielerR," I maso. 22 , 110.4- ( 1936), PV. 409-410; wilh refcrellce 10 Ernst Sillllllel, " Zur Psychoanalyse ties Spielers," Inl crn(ltionoic Zeiuchrift fiir P&ychoanuly&e. 6 (1920) , p. 397. [Olla .l] "\l'id, the discovery or Tahiti , ilt.'Clarell Fourier, with the example of an order in ...·hieb " large-8eale uuluury" it compatible with erotic freedom , "'conjugal slaY· cry" lias become unendu rable. I ; [01Ia,2J
Apropos of Freud's conjecture that sexuality is a dwindling function "of" the hwnan being, Brecht remarked on how the bourgeoisie in decline differs &om the feudal class at the time of its downfall: it feels itself to be in all things the quintessence of humankind in general, and hence can equate its own decline with the death of humanity. (This equation. moreover, can playa part in the uruni.stakable crisis of sexuality within the bourgeoisie.) The feudal class, by virtue of privileges, fdt itself to be a class apart, which corresponded to the reality. That enabled it, in its waning, to manifest some elegance and insouciance. [01 Ia.3! Love for the prostitute is the apotheosis of empathy with the commodity.
"The game of chance rel)t·eM:.nts the only occasion 0 11 which the pleasure principle. Ilnd the omn.ipotence of its thougbts and des lre~. need not be renouncet.i , and OD which the reality princi ple offers 110 Iltlvuotage~ IIvcr it. 111 this retention or the infantile fiction of omnipotence lies postllllmous aggress.ion agai n8t the ... authority which has ' inculca ted ' the realit y Ilrinciple in the child . This unconscioUll aggressio n . togetber with the opera tion of the omnipotence ofidell.s and the experiellce of the WOCililly viable I'cpressed exhibition. conspires to rurm a triad of ple8lures in gambling. This triad stands opposed to a triad of punishnlcnts cUlistituted fro nl out of the unconscious desire or losll. the UlJI'onscious homosexuul d e~ ire for domination. Mild the defamation of s<W!iety.. .. At lhe d t.'Cpe~t level , tht' !ame of chance il love's will to he exto r ted by all U11(:onscifltls ma~{jc hj 8 Iic desigll . Thi.s is why the gambler alwuY AIOlles i.n the long run. " EdnulIld Berglcl', " Zur P~ yc hol ogie dl':ii Ha ~ard~pielers," Im (180, 22_ no . 4 ( 1936) , p . 440. [011.2J Oril'.f accoullt of Ern.st Simmd 's ideail on t.llt> psychology (,f the gambl" r : " Tbe ull!atiaLle gn:ell that limh no rest wit hin an unclldillg vicit}u ~ drclc, wht're 10Sl h.'Ctlme8 lIlain a ud gain becomes IOIll!. jl! suititfl arist' fr.1D1 the lIarci.ssistic oomp ul~
[Olla,4) Magiftlralt) ur Pili rill! Marc h wilil the , y, letn . Pursue Ihe good work orMangin and Belleyme: O".ip'. 118 chi leault ror the filthy Phryne5. P.. ~tilenl , lonely, lind dark qUflr'ierl. .Augusti". Marseille> Barthelemy, Puri.$: R evue sotirique il M. G. Deleuer' (Paris,
1828), 1'. 22.
(012.1J
A description of the lower class of prostitute that had seuJcd in the vicinity of the city gate, the harri(r~. It comcs from Du Camp, and would make an excellent caption for many of Guys's watercolors: "If one pushes open the barrier and the door that closes the entrance, one finds oneself in a bar furnished with marble or wooden tablcs and tighted by gas ; tlU'ough the clouds of smoke g1ven off by the pipes,. one distinguishes garbage men, diggers, caners-drinkcrs, for the most pan-seated before a Bask of absinthe and talking to creatures who ~ as gr0tesque as they att pitiable. All of these creatures are dressed. in ahnost the same
way, in that red cotton fabric that is d~ar to A&ican Negroes, and out of which the curtains in little provincial inns ~ made. What coven; them cannot be called a dress; it is a beltJess smock. puff~d up with a crinoline. Exposing the shoulders with an outrageously low CUt, and comingjust to the l~vel of the knees, this o utfit gives them the look of large, inflated children, prematurdy aged and glistening with fat, wrinkJed, dazed, and with those pointed h~ads that arc tlle sign of imbecility. When the inspectors, checking the registration book, call them and they get up to reply. they have all the chann of a circus dog." Maxime Du Canlp, Paro: &; organa, .w/onCHD1U et J(1. vi~ dJI11J 10. second~ moi/il du XIX' Jihk vol. 3 (Paris, 11m!), p. 447 ("La Pro.citucion"). (012,2) "The h atic principle ... of gamhLing ... cOllsists in this: .. . that ellch round is independent o( the one preceding .... GamLling strelluously denies all aClluired conditions, all antecwents .. . pointing to pre\'i(lUHQI:ti{IIIS; aud that i!J what distinguiilhes it from work. Camhling rejects ... this weighty palit which is the mainstay o( work . aud which makes (or seriousness o( purpose, (or attention to the 10DJ term, for right . and for power.... Tbe idea o( beginning again , ... and of doinS better•.. . occurs often to olle (or whom work i8 a struggle; bUI the idea is • •. useless • . . . and une must 8111nlillc 011 with LlI8Ufficit,:111 n!8uhs:' Alliin <EmileAuguste Charlier ), Les Idees elk, ages <Paris. 1927 ) , yol. l , lll'. 183-184 (>Ole Jeu""). (Ol2.3]
The lack of consequences that defines the character of the isolated experience <Erltbni.J) fOWld drastic expression in gambling. During the feudal age, the latter was essentially a privilege of the feudal class, which did n ot participate directly in the production process. W'hat is new is that in the nineteenth century the bourgeois gambles. It was above all the Napoleonic annies that. on their campaigns, became the agents of gambling for !he bo~oisie . 1012a, I) The significance of the temporal element in the intoxication of the gambler has . been noticed before this by Gourdon, as well as by Anatole France. But these twO writers see only the meaning time has for the gambler's pleasure in his winnings, which, quickly acquired and quiekJy surrendered, multiply themsdves a hundredfold in his imagination through the numberless possibilities of expenditure remaining open and, above all. through the one rea1 possibility of wager, of mile enj~u. What meaning the factor of time might have for the process of gambling itself is at issue in neither Gourdon nor France. And the pastime of gambling is, in fact , a singular matter. A game passes the Lime more quick1y as chance comes to light more absolutely in it, as the number of combinations encownel'ed in the course of play (of coups) is smaller and their sequence sha ner. In other words, ~e greater the component of chance in a game.. the more speedily it elapses. state of affairs beeomes decisive in me dispositio n of what comprises the authentic "intoxication" of the gambler. Such intoxication depends o n the peculiar capacity of thc game to provo ke presence of mind through the fact that, ill rapid succession, it brings to the fore constellations which work-each one wholly
nus
inde~dent of the others- to summon up in every instance a thoroughly new, original reaction from the brambler. 'Ibis fact is mirrored in the tendency of gamblers to place their bets, whene.ver possible, at the very last moment'- the moment, moreover, when o nly enough room remains for a purely reBexive move. Such reflexive behavior o n the part of the g-dmbler rules Out all "interpre. tation" of chance. The gambler's reaction to chance is more like that of the knee to the hanmlC1' in the patellar reflex. [012a,2)
The superstitious man will ~ on the lookout for hints ; the gambler will react to th~m even ~eIore they can be n;cos,ruzed. To hav~ ~o.reseen a winning play WIthout havmg made the most of It t.vill cause the ururnoated to think that he is "in luck" and has only to act more quickly and courageously the next time around. In reality, this occurrence signals the fact that the SOrt of motor rdIex which chance releases in th~ lucky gambler failed to materialize.ll is only when it does ?ot take place that "what is about to happen." as such, comes clearly to consoousness. (013,I J Only the future that has not entered as such into his consciousness is parried by the gambler. (013,2] The prosaiption of gambling could have its deepest roots in the fact that a natural gift of humanity, one which, ~cted toward the highest objects, elevates the. human being beyond himself, only drags him d own when applied to one of the ~ean~ t o~jects : mo~ey. Th~ gift in question is presence of mind. Its highest manifestaoon lS the readmg that 111 each case is divinatory. [013.3] The peculiar feding of happiness in the one who wins is marked by the fact that money and riches, otherwise the most massive and burdensome things in the v.'Orld, come to him from me fates like a joyous embrace returned to the full. They can be compared to words oflove from a woman altogether satis6ed by her man. Gamblers ilK types to who m it is not given to satisfy the woman. Isn't Don Juan a gambler? [013,4]
"During. the period of facile optimism, such as radiated from the pen of an Alfred Capus. 11 WM customary on the boulevard to attribute everything [0 luck." GastC?/l Rageot. "Qy 'est-ce qu'un evenement?:" I.e Temps, April 16, 1939. -The .~
.
g~r lS a means of conferring shock value all events. of loosing them from the
COnlexts of e.xperiellce. ' ~ It is not by accident that people bel on the results of elections, Oil the o UlbrPlk of war, and so on. For the bourgeoisie in n"rticul~ lOr ' . . ' r-- , I l Ocal affaIrs easily take the fo nn of events on a gaming table. -nus is /lot so ?lllch the case for the proletarian. H e is better positioned 10 recognize constants Ul the political process. [013,5] l 'lh: C~lIIetery uf the IlIlIocell tfj HII IJI·OIllCll oJC. "SlIdl wa s die IIlact' wlJil:\J Ihe Pari10lanll ' . ~ CHlllltCI'"!UU'! 10 u f t. IIe 'f II tt.:Clllh eelliliry f~IIIIt!lIlcd a ll a ~ Ol· t of IlI glILrl(Ju
","-
the Palu.i, . R.., yal or 1789 . . . . [II 5pile or t.he iUoe!Iltan' burial! and exhun18tions going 0 11 tho' I'c. it wa ll /II JJllhlir lounge a nd /II rtndeJlVOll8. SImp' were e81ab lili hed before the charnel llOu6e@, and pro8titute8 strolled nnder the cloi"leu ." J . UuiJl_ inga, Herbs, de, MiUeloflers (Munic h , L928), p . 2 10.lQ 1013a ,11
only al olwning tillle." Bab:ac, La Pelfu de chngrin . Editions F1amma rion (Puris),
Are fOrlunetelling cards mo~ ancient than playing cards? Does the card game represent a pcjoration of divinatory technique? Seeing the futu re is certainJy aucial in card games, too. [013a,2]
On gambling: the less a man is imprisoned in the bonds of fate, the less he is detcnnincd by what lies nearest at hand. (OJ 4.3J
Money is what gives life to number; money is what animates the marble maiden
The ideal of the shock-engendered experience <Erltbnu> is the catastrophe. This becomes very clear in gambling: by constantly raising the stakes, in hopes of getting back whal is lost, the gambler steers toward absolute ruin. (014 ,4]
.~n ·
~~
Gracian's maxim-lO in all things, know how to win time to your side"-will be
understood by no onc better and more gratefully than the one to whom a long-chrnshed wish has been granted. With this, com~ the magnificent definicion which Jouben gives of such time. It defines, contrariwise, the gambler's time: "There is time even in eternity; but it is not a terrestrial or worldly time. . .. It destroys nothing; it completes." J.Joubert, lhuits (Paris, 1883), vol. 2, p. 162. [OHla,4] Concerning the heroic clement in gambling-as it were, a corollary to Baudelaire's poem "Le J eu ":"A thought which regularly crosses my mind at the gam. bling table ... : What if one were to store up all the energy and passion ... which every year is squandered ... at the gaming tables of Europe-would one have_ enough to make a Roman people out of it, and a Ro man history? But that's jwt it. Because each man is born a Ro man, bourgeois society aims to de·Romanizc him, and thus there are games of chance and games of etiquette, novels, Italian operas and stylish gazettes, casinos, tea parties and lotteries, years of apprenticeship and travel, military reviews and changing of the guard, ceremonies and visits, and the fifteen or twenty close·fitting garments which daily, with a salutary loss of time, 3 person has to put on and take ofT again-all these have ~ . introduced so that the overabundant energy evaporates unnoticed!" Ludwtg BOrne, GtJammelte &hriflen (Hamburg and Frankfurt am Main, 1862), vol. 3, pp. 38-39 ("-O as Gasunahl dCT Spieler"
~~
~ "' J
Prostitutio n opens a market in feminine types.
[014,2J
p
and their earliest green glow at dusk is the automatic signal for the Start of spring in the big city. [Pl.2] TIll' Quurlit'r de rEur'OlJe already !;'xi~ l ed as a proje('I, irJI~ lIrl'orulilllll the flamell of Ihf' Europeall capilal&. in 1820. • [Pl .3]
[The Streets of Paris1 In short. the streets of Paris ~e sct to rhyme. Hear how. -Beginning of Dil des rlteJ tk Rim. by Guillot (Pari$, 1875), with prWce, n(Kd, and glouary by &Igar !\Jarc:u.sc (first ,",,-ord o£ W second line in the original : M\Vas
On Fehr'lIlll')' 4, 1805, houses were firSI !lumbered , II)' imperial de<:rt'fl. Prcvioull allt' nlpl ~ to 110 this-in January 1726--bad mel wilh violent resistance . Owners of houses 11e<:lurcd themselves ready to num ber Ihe s id ~ entrauces, but nol their carriage entrances. The Revolotion had aJrf'ady introduced the numbering of hnuses according to dislricts; iu some IHstnc", thertl ",'f're 1.500-2,000 numbers.
ft
)
\Ak lea~ an imprint each time WI! emer into a history. L
They spoke of Paris as Ja " jill' qui remut'-the city ~t never stops moving. But no less important than the life of this city's layout IS here: the Wlconquerable POWCl" in the names of strttts, sqUlll't:S, and the~ters, 3 powtr .persists in the face of all topographic displacement. Those little theaters which, m the day! o[ Louis Philippe, still lined the Boulevard du Temple-how often has,one of them been tom down, only to resurface. newly built, in some other quarlur. (To speak. of ;ccity districts" is odious to me.) How m~ street. names, e~en today, prese~ the name of a landed proprietor who, (enrones earlier, had ~s demesne o,n th~
w!llc.h
groWld. The name "'ChAteau d'Eau," rdening to a long-vamshed ro~tru.n. still haunts various ammdi1.mnNits today. Even the beuer-known ea~g establishments art, in their way, assured of their small municipal immonality-to say nothing of the ~at literary immortality attaching to the Rocher d~ Can~, the \lefour the Trois Freres Proven~ux. For hardly has a name made Its way to the field of gastronomy, hardly has a Vatel or a Riche achieved its f~e,. than all of Paris including the suburbs, is teeming with Petits Vatcls and PeOtS Riches. Such is the' movement of the streets, the movement of names, which often enough run [PI ,II at cross-purposes to one another. And then the timeless little squares that suddenly are there•.and ~o which no name attaches. Thcy have nOl been the object of careful planrung, like the Place: Yendome or the Place d es Greves, and do nOl C!~oy the patron~ge of 'world L'-t but owe their uistenu to houses that have slOl'Vly, sleepdy, belated.ly Ill:> ory. _L th treeS assembled in response to the SWlmlOllS of the century. In SUUI sq~ares , e . hold sway; even the smallest alford thick shade. Later. however, III the gaslight, their leaves have the appearance of dark-grce:n frosted glass near the street lamps,
[P1,4) Afler tile ana.sinH-lion o( Murat , Montmartre ""as rellamed !\tont-Ma rat .
[PI ,5]
The function of the saints in the naming of Parisian streets suddenly became clear during the Revolution. To be sure, the Rues Saint-Honore, Saint-Roeh, and Saint·Antoine were, for a while, known as H onore, Roch. and Antoine, but it could nOt take hold; a hiarus had opened up that to the ear of the Frenchman was [Pl.5] unendurable. "An enthusiast of the R.t:volution once proposed transforming Paris into a map of the world: n// streets and squares were to be rechristened and their new names drawn from noteworthy places and things across the world." Pursue this in imagination and, from the surprising impression made by such an opticalphonetic image of the city, you will recognize the great importance of street names. Pinkerton, Mercier, and C. F. Cramer; Ansidrtrn tin Hnupls/tul/ dafian* lOJUu,en Knum-eidu rom Jahrt 1806 nn, vol. 1 (Amsterdam, 1807), p. 100 (ch. 8, ;oNcologie," by Pinkerton). [Pl ,7] There is a peculiar voluptuousness in the naming of streets.
[p1 ,81
" TII(> name La Hotluette, givell 10 two prisons, a Itl"eet , and an enti re dis trict, cornel frorn the plant of that name (Eruca satil!a ). which U8ed to Oou"l h in (01"nl~rI)' uniuhahited areas ." La Grande Roquette was, (or a long time , the prisOIJ in which those 8t'ntenced to dea th awa ited tile outcome of their appeal. Maxime Du CtIiIlP, Paris, vol. 3, p . 2M. [pl.9]
TIle sensuality in street names-cenain1y the only sort which citizens of the
{oWn, if need be, can still perceive. For what do we know of streetcomers, curbStones, the an:.hitecrure of the pavement- \o\'e who have never felt heat, 61th, and thc edges o f the stones beneath our naked soles, and have ncver sautinil.ed the uneven placement of the paving stones with an eye toward bedding d o\vn on
~-
[PII ~
" Pout d ' Austerlitz! Its ramous name tlvllkes ror me sometliing (Iuite oilier Ihllll the hattie. Oetipite wlllli llftlple haw: mai11luilled 10 me . DIUJ whidl I aI'cepl ror f{lrm '. sake, il Wil li lilt· battle thai look illl nam tl r"om the britlgc. An C)I;plaulltiun for thi8 look IIhaJ>t' in my mi nd on the hajJis or my rever ies, my recollection uf d istrllcled i ehooldays. alill Blllllogit:s in the i nvor ami sount.! or ct'rluin wordil. Jb II t·hild , I always kept this eXJllauatioli undcr Illy hat; it wu pll r t uf my sccrellanguu ge. AIIII herc il ill : at the lime of wa rs. CI'U8Udc8, a llli rcvolutiulls. 1111 tile e \'c of battlc, the warriors woultl proceed with their eni igns to tlli9 bridge, oM as lhe hill" and there, in aU lolemnity, wowd drink 11 CUJ> of auslerlilz. ThiIJ aus terlitz . formidable brew, WD II quite l imply the bydromel of our ancellors. the Gaols , hulumn' bilter lind more 6lIed wit h lIeltzer." Cbarles VBd rac (Charl!!8 Mt"IIlIager >.
Excursus on the Place. du Maroc. Not only city and interior but city and open air can become entwined, and intertwining can occur much mort concretely. Theft is the Place. du Maroc in Belleville: that desolate heap of stones with ita rows of tenements became for me, when I happened on it o ne Sunday afternoon, not only a Moroccan desen but also, and at the same time, a monument of colonial imperialism; topographic vision was entwined with allegorical meaning in this square, yet not for an instant did it lose its place in the heart of Belleville. But to awaken such a view is something ordinarily reserved for intoxicants. And in such cases, in fact, st:rc:et names are like intoxicating substances that make our perceptions mort stratified and richer in spaces. One couJd call the energy by which they tranSport us into such a state their uerlu iuo!a!n'(e, their evocative power-but that is saying too litLie; for what is decisive here is not the association but the interpenetration of images. This state of affairs may be adduced, as well, in connection with ce.rtain pathological phenomena: the patient who wanders the: city at night for hours on end and forgets the way home is perhaps in the grip of this power. [Pla,2]
tnu
Street names in h _RII Brunct , Le lUessianis me---arg clflis ution generate de I'an..: SCI corutitntion generale, part I ( Paris, 1858): Bowcvard of Fioundcrs , Boulevard of J ewelers. Boulevard of Merchants. Boulevanl of Munufa
enll t'.!: Ule fo' auho urg Sainl~ Marcea ll wooltl hecome the Fauhourg lie Maraeille: the
Place de Grevcs wouJd be ko o wn " ~ Ihe Place de TOlin or de Bourges; llnd 110 un ," Mercicr. 1..e NOIi I/ClI" Pam <Paris , 1800>. vol . 5, p . 75. [pl a.4] Hue fl ('tl lmnu;ubles Indu illricls-l'I ow old ill thii street?
[Pl a,5]
A surprising argument, a hundred years ago, in favo r of an American system for demarcating streets : "You poor professors! who teach mo ral philosophy and belles lettrcs! Your names are posted in small black letters on a strtetcorner, above a milestone. The name of this jeweler is as dazzling as a tho usand fires - it shines like the sun. It is for sale, but it is expensive." Mercier, Le Nou/Xau Paris, vol. 4, pp. 74-75. [pla,6] AprOIJOS of the tllcory of s t.reet lIana ~lI : " Prope r nom es, 10 0 . have an effect Ihal iii CUllccptUBUy unburdened and purdy acolI$lic . . . . To borrow an expretllion frorn Curtiull (p. 65), proper names a rt' "ba re formula!!" which I)rousl can fill uJ> wilh f..-elings beeall:le tlley have not yel been rationa1ized by language." Leo Spitzer, StiLswdieti (Munich . 1928). vol. 2 . p . 434. [pla,7) ~Street," to be understood, must be profiled against the older tenn "way." With respect to Lileir mythological nantres, the two wo rds are entirdy distinct. The way brings with it the terrors of wandering, some ~verberation of which must have struck the leaders of nomadic ttibes. In the incalculable turnings and resolu· tions of the way. the~ is even today, for the solitary wanderer, a detectable trace of the power of ancient directives over wandering hordes. But the person who travels a street, it would seem, has no need of any waywise guiding hand. It is not in wandering that man takes to the street, but rather in submitting to the monotonous. fascinating, constantly unrolling band of asphalt. The synthesis of these twin terrors, however-monoto nous ,vandcring- is rtprese:nted in the labyrinth. ~ Anciquity O [n,ll
Whoever wishes to know how much at home we are in entrails must allow himself to be swept along in delirium through streets whose darkness greatly resembles the lap of a whore. Antiqwty 0 [P2 .2]
o
How names in the city, though, first become potent when they issue within the labyrinthine halls of Lile Metro. Troglodytic kingdoms-thus they hover o n the horizon: Solfenno, Italie and Rome, C onco rde and Nation. Difficult to bdieve that up above they all run out into one another, thal under the open sky it all draws togethcr. 0 Antiquity 0 [P2,3] The tm e expressive character o r street names can be recognittd as soon as they are Set beside refonnist proposals fo r their nomlalization. For example, Pujoulx's proposal fo r nam ing the streets of Paris after the ciues and localities of France, laking i.nto consideratio n their geographic positions relative to one anoLilcr, as
well as their population, and having regard for rivers and mo untains, whose names would go especially [Q long streets which cross several districts-all of this "in order to provide an ensemble such that a traveler couJd acquire: geographic knowledge of France within Paris and, reciproca.lJy. of Paris within Francc." J. B. Pujoulx. Paris a lafin du di:c-llIlitieme ji~cle (Paris. 1801). p. 81. 0 fUncric 0
[I'2,4J "Se\'enteen of lhe ga t e~ correspond to imperial routes .... In these namei. ODe would .eek in vain for a gener al system. What a re Antibt::s. Toulouse, and Bile doiug there bellide La Villette and Sainl-Ouen? ... If one had ""anted to esta blish &ome distinctions, olle could hav," ~ \'en to each gate the name of the French city most clit tant in that clirectiun:' E . de LabedoWere, H Uloire du nouveau (Paris), ~L
[1'2~
" Some bene.tillial me.as u~s by the municipal magistracy date from the time of the Empire. On Novemhl:r 3. 1800, ther e was, by decree, a gelleral revision of street nnmes. MUijt uf the grotestlue "ocahleil invenled by the Revolution djsappeared . The lIalll0>8 of li'lliticians Wl"!re almost all replaeed by the names of military men." Luuien Duheeh and Pie.rre d 'Espezel, Hisfoire de Pu nll (Pa ris, 1926), JI. 336. [P2,6J " In 1802 . ill vu riOIlS lIeighburhooos-Rue tlu Monl-Blan.:. Cha ussee d' Antiosidewalks were built. witll all elevathm of three or four inchel. There was then & D efforl to gct rid of the gutters in the center of the streets." Lucien Dubech and Pierre d'Elipezel, Uistoire de Paris (Paris. 1926), p . 336. [P2.7] " Ln 1805, the new lIystem of sequential numbering of houses , begun un the ioitia~ tive of FrocllOl and stiU ill effect today: even nwu.uen separated from odd, the even numbers on the r ight and the odd on the lefl , according ., one move • •••y from the Seine or follow& its course. The numbers were ""rute and were placed on • red background in streets paraUel to the river. on a black backgroulld in streeb ~rpe.lldi cular to it.·' Lucien Duhec:h and PierTe d 'Espe.ze1. flistoire dl! ParU (Parill, 1926). p. 337. [P2,8) Around 1830: " The Cha uuee. d'Allti.n is the neighborhood of the nouveaux ricbee of the fin anciu l world . All these. districts in the western pa rt of town have been dillcre(Hled : the city plannen of the period believed thai Paris was going to develop ill the direction of th e sllitl'llter wurks, an opinion 111111 ought to imlill prudence in tollay's Ilcvclopcrs .... A 101 o rlllu~ Chaussee d ' Antin had trQullll' fin ding a bu yer al 20,000 tn 25,000 fralt cs." Dllbech and d ' Espczd , lli!Jt oire. de. Pflris (paris, 1926), p . 364. [P2a.1J
" I know nnthing more ridicuinul and more inconsistent thall the names of streetll, squares. hliml alleys. and u.ull-tlc-iulC in Paris. Let us choose at random some of these names in one of the more I!ea utifulneigliborhood.s, a nd we canllot but Dote this incolu:rellce and caprice . I arrive by tlte Hue Croix-d es-Petiu:-Champ&; I l'ross the Place des Vicloires; I turll illto the Rue Vuide-Gousset , which takes me to the Passage des Petits-Peres . from which it is oilly a short di.stance. to the PalaisEgalite. What a salmagundi ! The first name caUs to mind a cult object and a nutic landscape; the second offers military triumphs; tile third . an ambush ; the fourth , the memor y of a nickname gjven to a monastic order ; and tbe lasl. a word wrucb ignoranue . intrigue, and a mbition have taken lurna a busing." J . B. Pujouh, Paris iJ lufin du XVIII' sieck (Paris. 1801 ), pp . 73-74. (P2a,3] >-Two steps from the Place de la Bastille in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, people still say . •, am goillg to Paris' .... This auburb has it. own mores and cu stoma, even iu own language. The municipality baa numbered the houses bere, aa in aU other parts of Paris ; but if y()U ask one of lhe inhabitanu of this suburb for his address , he will always give yo u the name his house bears and not the cold , official number.... This house is known by the name 'Tt) the King of Sillm,' that by 'Star of Gold '; rhia house is called 'Court of the 'TWo Sisters, ' and that one ia called 'Name or J esus'; others carry the name ' Bas ket of flt)w ers.' or ' Saint Esprit,' or ' Bel Air,' or ' Hunting Box.' or 'The Good Seed o· n Sigmund Englander, Gesch ichte der fratuii3 ~ che." Arbeiterouociotionen (Hamburg, 1864), vol. 3, p . 126. (Pla,4] Excerpt from a proposal for naming Slrte18 which presumably steDls from the Revolution : " Someone ... I)ropoaed giving 8lr eeU and aUeys tbe DamCil of virtues and generous IICntimenU, without reflecti.ng thai this moral nomenclature was too One senaea that in limited for the great number of streets 10 be round in Paris. this I)roj cct tllere was a certain logic in tile arrangement of bames; for example, the Ru t' de la Jwtice, or Ihat of I'Humonite. had necessarily to lead to the Rue du BOflheur, while the Rue d e la Probite ... had to cr088 all of Paris in leading to the most beautiful neighborhoods." J . B. Pujoub. Paris Ii laftn du XVIII- ,iecle (Paris, 1801 ), pp. 83-84. (P2a,5] 0
0
•
•
Concerning the magic of street namcs. Deh 'au on the Place Maubert: " It is lIot a S(luare ; it is a large hlot. ItO fuU or fi lth and mire that even the lips HuU y themselves ill pronouncing this n8111e from the thirt(.'f'.nth century- not because it is old but Utl1lau.se it e.xhal e~ an odor of iniquity. which ahocb the sense of smell ." A. I)t:!va u . Le3 Dessous tie I'uru (Parill, 1866), p. 73. [P2a,6] 0
•
" iL is lIot ~IIJle.rflulltlS to observe. that a foreigner, willi. on arrh'illg in a city, start& cv... r ywhere judging hy apltear8 llces , eould well suppose. in coming upon these unsY8t...!natic ami inlligrlifica nt d reet na mes, that the rea~onin g of those who live htore was no less lo()sely cOllllectf"{l ; alit! , certainl y, i£ eeveral streeU presented him with base or ol.sl'ene nanlel!. lIe would have grounds for be lieving ill the immorality
Otlt
July MOllarchy: " While mOllt of the lilrt.'et names re.ca lling politicul eVt-litii were ,ll1Im away with. new O llt! ! "PI}I!llreti commemorating a dale: the Rill: till 29 JIUIlet. ·· DubeclJ lind d 'Espe.zel. Hu rQire de Pu.ru, p . 389. [P2a,2]
•
0
of lile inhabita nts." J . U. Pujouhc . "n ru p ,77,
a lafin
dlJ XVIII '
s;ec/e ( Paris,
nm l), (P3, I]
RatiunalilJlII IQUk parlieuJa r offense at Ilamcs like Rue drs M u u vaili -C ar~u n 8 , Rue 1'irr-8oudin , Rue Mauvai8cs-Pa l·oll!l. Rue Femme-san a-Tetc . Rue du Chat qui Pechc. Rue Courlaud· Villai n .: It i8 Bueh Illact!!l that arl' fretlUf'lItCtl. iiIly8 Pujoulx , Ly thulle wllo won't listen to hi8 llrUftOSals, [P3,2] "What a pleasure for the resident of the South uf Fra nce Iu rediscover, in the linIlles of the various dislricts of Paris, tholle of the placl:: wllere he was born , of the tow n where his wife came inlo I.he worM , of the village where he spe nt his early yean."' J , B. Pujoulx, Pari3 Ii hlfin rill XVIII' siecle (Paris, 1801 ), p. 82. [Pa,3] "The hawken chome their n l::~'8 1,apen acco rding to which neighlmrhooos they wa nt to work in , and even wit hin these areaa there are nuances that muat be distinguished . One 8treet read, Le Peuple, while an otlU'c r will have only La Reforrne, but the str eet perpendicula r to these, which connects them, takes L'A.,· aemblee nationale. or perhapll li'Union . A good hawker ought tn be able to teU you , with an eye to the promige. made b y aU the aspiring legislaton and written UpOI1 our waUs, whal JH!rcentageorthe vote in a p articular arrOlldiuement each of thcse political mendicants can expect to h ave." A, Privat d 'Anglemont , Pum in· connu, (paris, 1861 ), p . 154,0 f1 i ncllr 0 [P3,4} What was oth~ reserved for o ru y a very few words, a privile::~d class of words, the:: city has made possible for all words, or at least a great many: to be elevated to the noble:: status of name. This revolution in language was carric=d out by what is most gene::ral: the street,- Through its StrUt namC".S, the city is a linguistic cosmos. [P3,S] Apro pus of Victor Hugo's "comma nd of image, The few insigh u we have into hi. methods of composition confirm tha t the fuculty of interior evocatio n was much s tronger in him than in other people. T his is why he was a ble-from memory. aod without taking any nolel-to describe the quartier of Pur is through which J ean VaJjean escapes in LeJ Muerableai a nd this description is s trictly afcura te, s treet by l reel. house by houst"." Paul BOllrl!:et . oLi tuary notice for Victor Hugo in the Journal de~ debars: '; Vi c l ~lr Hugo deva nt r opinion" ( Pa ris, 1885). p, 9 1. [P3,6} On an etching: ;' Ru c. Tircchupe-in 1863 as it was in 1200." Cuhillct dell ~_~
~n
In all engraving froln 1830. one can sce n mall scn ted on a Ir~ trunk ill the {Pl,8] Bouleva rd Sa inl· Df' IILs , In 1865 . on the Bouleva rd des CaJilldlleS, a t the corner oftlw Hlle d e Seze ant! the Rue Cawnarl.in. the ti r81 refuse. or slreel-island , Wll8 inslal l,·d . [P3a,1J
'"The wa y II.e Clllup,,I!;u 10 1I111ke fat:e~ at thc entra nce 10 t.he morgue: the way the ~ huwo frs come Lh t' l~ 10 recile Ih6r grotl'.sq ul' jokt's .. . in liue b u plal'c: lit e way Ihc "nlwtl . . ' gU llwr8 ;,rulIl1Il Iu laugh their lill at the ufh'll indeccnt anli.·" uf u j u ~l el", afler gaping al fi" e t:utlavers laid ulii side hy ll.i~ l e .... NO ...... lhlll·s ",'hilt I I'all revolt ing, . , J" ViCIo)I' Fl)lIrlld. Ce (1,,'u 1I "oi, dmu Jell ruf'S fi e P/lris ( Paris. 1858). p . 355 (" La Morgue"), [p3a,2J C hOSIS of Ihe cit)' : " Holllllnticis m nn 11h' tlet·lint: ... delights in legends, While. C.'ol·gt' SnlHI. Jre~ se(1 us a lU all , ~ IIPI)Oselll y ri.le~ 0 11 hurlleh llck ucrus ~ Plll'i\! in thtl C(fll1 l'uny of La lllll l'lill" , ,In 'ssed as a wo mUII , Dumll ~ hus his nuvels wl·ilten in I·cll .. rs and drinks l'Ilnmpugllc lIJ1l11airs with va rio u ~ 1H' II'cue~, Or, heltt.l" yet , BulIlas does !lot exis t : he is olily II nl ythi~:aJ being, II trade !l lIme illvcllled ily a synlliflt te (of ~ I i lors," J . Lut"'as· DuLretoD. Lo Vie rl "A lu tllll/re Dllmu!! Pere ( Paris <1928)). p. I'l L [P3a,3) " Here. liIen , , , . i8 111e, ,. DictiOllnuire de ltlill ngue l:e.r,e
[p3.,,] A niCi! descr iption of el.:gnlll Ileighllorhootb: " the nobilit y, silClIlly bunkered in theM: cloistral s treet, a in an immen ;;e ami s l , l~ml id monaster y of JH!acc lind [P3a t S] refugt'." Paul · Erlle~ t n attier, P(lri.s n 'exil te W" Waris. 1857). p , 17.
Aro und 1860, the Paris Lridgc, wer e. still jnmfficit'lll for the traffic. between the two bunks; there was frC(lucnt recour5~ to ferrie., The fare fu r Ihis ser vice w as two Stlus: proletarians, tlll!r cfore. could ouly rarel y make !I,e (If it. ( From P,·E. Rat· [P3a,6] licl', ['oris II 'exiMe pil l (paris . 1857), lip. 49-50. " 1" Augo, the VClldonll" Column , the Arc .Ie Trionll'lle. and the Invalides go hand in hant!. if I ma y pul it thi ~ wny. There is a historical allli political, a rcal aud lilerary connection amOllg these three monuments, TI)t!ay. , .. th t' position of these Ihree te.rms, their relation , hall c h a ll gl"~1. T hl" Column has Leen cffectivel y ' IIPphlnll"ti. ill Slti te of VuillaUllle. Ami il is Iht' P'lIltilenn Ihal has CLlIl"!. as it were, tLl r .. placf' il--1!~ I":1~ ia ll y sillf'c li ngo's s uccess in bringing it III yil' l~1. ,., to iil)l'ltk , til the tWt'nllllen. Tlillay, Ihe tril0lty of monument s iii till' AI"I' dl' Triollillhe. Ihe PUIl11.<'0 11 . aud IiJo' Chu rdl O)f Ih., Ill va lid e~." C h a d.·~ Pi·guy. Oeu vre!! c()"'JlIMe.~. 18 1:~_ 1. 9 1 .1: DllI/ vre, ric IJrI)$C ( J>lIris. 191 6), 1.1 . 419 ("' Vi,'I' ,I·.Mal·ic. Coml e 1111150"'). (S. ~ C6: Om. 1, scrlion II I.) [P3a.7) '''I'he tnu> Paris i .. br !la lu!"t· a (I!lrk , mil'),. malUll urOJUiI city. ("oufined wi lhin its " arrf}"" laneii . ... wunning lO'iti, hli nd a ll.;:)'s. l'ul... -t! ....... a(". a nd myslI' I'iuus JlIIS~ a t:t')o, with la hyrillths Ihat It'ad yo u 1<1 tlw ,Ic\il: a ~ i l )' wllt'l"t: 1.lltl poinwtl ruu rs of lilt· sQmher 11 0 11 ;;0;:11 joill lugdhcr UI' there 111'11 1' 1110' dlllltis /Jlltl tlllll> ~b'Tud ge yOIl
the bit of blue which the northern sky wouJd give in alms to t.h e veat capital. .. , Tht, true Paris i:8 full uf freak I hows. f'el'O!;itories at thrt:e centime. a night for unllenrd-of Ilt.'ingll anti Immnll pluUltnrnagorias ... , There, in a cloud IIf amrno_ Iliac vapor. .. . alld 0 11 bedl that have not Ix-en made since tile Crelll.ion, repoa,inl!l side by sitl .. are hundreds. thOIUUlnds, of charlatan• • of match &CUen. of accordion plHyers . IIf hunchhacks, of the hlind and the lame; of dwarfs. legleu cripples . and tllell whnsc noses were biuen un in quarrels, of ruhbcr-jointed men , downs malt_ ing a corn!'bac k , and . word ~ w allowers; of jugglen who halance a vea!!y pole on the tips of Iheir teeth ... ; children with four legs. Basque giantl and other kind!!. Tom Thumb in bi!> twentieth reincarnation. plant-IHlople whose hand or arm is the soil of a living tree. which eprollu each year ils crown of branches a nd leavCl ; walking skeletons, transparent huma ns made of light , .. aud who&C faint voice can make iliielfheard 10 an allentive ear , , , ; orangutans with human inlelligence; mon~terll who speak French ," PauJ-Ernesl de Rattier. Paris n 'e:%ute pcu (Pari•• 1857). I'll. 12. 17-19. To be compared with thill are Hugo'.II drawingll. aDd alto IIoU5.11malln 's vision of Paris. [P4,I) Fa ll" of the republican oPpollition I.mder C uizot. " L'£m«ncipation, of Toulouae, ciles the words of a conservalive 10 whom someone had eXllreslled pity for the plight of those politica1 prisoners languishing behind bars: ' I will feel 80rry for them when mushrooms begin v owing on their backs. , .. J ean Skerlitc.h , L 'OPlnWlI ,mbli(IUe en Fran ce d 'apre! kl poe&jc politiquc et sociale de 1830 Ii HUB
"A 10llg time ago. someone had Ihe idea of I>wpling the Champe-Ely. t!ell with 81a lul"1I, The momenl for lhi. h al still not arri'·ed ." Th , Gautier, " Etudes philosou iecle.> p. 27 . [P4,5] phiquell ," Pliris et I.e! Parisiens (Ill
xrx·
"Thirly yea rs ago . . . il was . till . , . virtually Ihe &eWer il had been i.n ancient limes. A very large number of streel!l . whose surface iii now crowlle!l . were then hollow C8Urie",'ay'l. Yuu very oflell saw, at the low point where the gUllers of a IItreet or a fi(IIHlf'e lenllin8led. largt' rectangular gratings with gn-at ha rs. tlle iron of whicll IIllOnc . poli~ hed Ly tlu~ feel of tbe lIIuhjtutle. dangerous anti , tipper)' for wagonil. allil making horses Hwmble. ,. In 1832 . in man y "Iree t•• ' . . die old GOlhic clllllt!a still cYllirally liho .... ed it~ jaw». They wer e enormous, lluggi ~ h ga pll of SllIne. sometimes SlirrOIlIHIt.od b y iltone blocks , disiliaying monumenlal effront-
ery," Vidor lingo , Ol!u vres COnJJlJ£tl!'. lIovd,l . vol. 9 (Parill. 1881 ). V· 181. ( Le, (p4a, l] Miserables}.' On the wall of thl! Farmer N-Gl!lIcral, undl!r Louis XVI : " Tilt' mur <wall ) hy which Paris i~ immured lIIakl'lI Paris murmur," [Pb .2] A.~
1\ legeml of Ihe morgue. Maillard cit l!lI lhe (olillwing remarks from E. Tuier, Le 1l.t bleuu (I~ PlIri&( 1352): "'111 thi~ lillilding Lives a clerk who . . . I,aii a family. Who
kntl ws wlwther the dc/·k·s daughter d oes not hav!' a piano in her room and , on Sl.Indar o:vt'ning;s . docs lIot dance with her (riends to Ihe strains of the ritorneUo8 of PilCKIo !Ir MUlIanL" According to MaWard , bo....evr r. the clerk did 1I0t live in the nlllrgull in 1852. Ciwd in .' irmi.n Maillard , R eclle rches hiltoriques et critique, sur la MorS/le (Paris. 1860). Ill' , 2(,...27 . T he account goes back , a8 Ma illard himself explailU . to a report of 1830 hy Leon GotJan , wmch for ilS I)a rt waslomewbat [p4a.3] fellilletonislic. "The Place Maubert . accu rsed lIquare whieh hides the name of Albertu! Magnus." Pori, chez !o; <Pari8, 185
C. Buugl ti. Chez les p roph elell sociuliMl!1 (Puris, 191 8). cit~ . ill till' eii~ay " I': AIli · rillce intd lectuelle fra nco-allcmIUlde" (I'. 123). Borne's phrase aboul the unet;; of l'uris: Ihoil'" glorioll! ~ treet l! " wllOse pU\'cmCllt 0 111' ought 10 trea,1 wit h hare feet 11'5,11 Qui)'... TI,t' A\'l'!lUe Hilel,,:1 lea/Is ttl the. CCtlle.tery of Mllntnutl'lrC , About this. Oaniel HaICv)' writes (f'IIYs purilielll [Pari" ( 11)32> I, p . 276): "Hul'iwl. Ihe tra jo;f'dielllte., is here Ihe. heraltland patrone!!s. " (p5,2j
"The importance accorded the traffic of pilgrimt-many people in those day!! web' III VI:Dl:rale rdict-is attt:sted by tllIl. fa.:t that tile old Roman road, wi th itll two sectio ns, wall named after the principal desunations of such IJilgrimage: in the north , Sa int-Morun. after the Cathedral of Tours; and in the lIouth, Saint_ Jaclluell. after lile Spanis h Jagfl di Cflmpoatella." Fritz Stahl , Pari.$ (Berlin d929».p.67. [PS.31
The oft-formuJated observation that the neighborhoods of Paris each have a life of their own is given support by Stahl (Parir, p. 28) in a reference to certain Parisian monuments. (He speaks of the Axe de Triomphe, and one could also mention Notre Dame or Notre Dame de Lorene.) Forming a background to important streets, these buildings give their districts a cemer of gravity and, at the same time, represent the city as such within them. Stahl says "that each monumental edifice ... appears "lith an escon, like a prince with his train of followers. and by this retinue it is separated from the respectfully withdrawing masses. It becomes the ruling nucleus of a neighborhood that appears to have gathered around it" (p. 25). [P5.4]
[Panorama] Does anyone still want 10 go with me: into a panorama? - Max Brod, Wm- die St:};ii1I};dl };iiJJlidr" Bilder (Leipzig, 1913). p. 59
Thel'e were panoramas,· dioramas, cos nlor amall, diaphanoramu, navaloramas, pleoramas (plea, " f lail." " I go by water"), falltoscOpe (I). fant as ma. parostase&, "Ilantas magorical and fa ntasmaparastatic experience., picturesque journeys in a room, geor amas; optical picluresllues, cineor amas, phanoramall, l tereoramas. cycloramas, panorama dramatique . . " n ou r lime so rich ill 1' 0 110-, COSIllO-, Ileu-, myrio-, kigo- and dio-ramas." 1\1. G, Saphir, ill the Berliner Cou rier, Ma l'cll 4. 1829: cited in Erich Stenger, Daguerre. Diorama in Berlin (Berlin , 1925), I' , 73. [
tIle coar!le moustacheM tlf Ihese inferior brigand_ heu I thollght I IJO!rceived he nea lh thd.r I'cpulsivc appearancc 80mc cha rac teristic. Ihlll ..'cre nOI a l aU unfamilia r. A. I looked more dOlid y. I ~ca nlC con vinced Ihal dlt' OWll/'r of Ihe Inall ter thieves (who was a lso the owner of the other wax:wo rk ~ ) . wan lin j:: 10 make use of SOnll' wax I1 gul'cs thllt Wt'rt" 110 longer in flUihioll . or of lIome COlllmissioned portraits thai were s uhsetlUelllly rt'jt."1:leti . had dreued them up in rags. loaded Ihem with chains, anti ,;Iightl y cli.;digured them in IInler to place Ihem here "'it h the great thieves .. .. I couJd not hdp smiting whell I cOlIsi.leretll.hat the ",ife of one of the subjects miglll ...e11 discover. among these gentlemen . the portrait of her husband that hud Ollt:C been so gluriousi y cOllllllissioned. And , ,·cally, I am not joking when I liay I.hal l liaw among this grOUJl all cxrdlellilikellcs6 of Ung U€I." who, everaJ monlhs ea rlil'r. IUIIJ enjoyed II place of honor in the other room. and who undoubt_ edl y had Lt.'"C1l transported here for eeonOlnit: r elliClns. aud 10 fill oul lhe prison. " ("Simon-Nicolas-Henri Lillgllcl , 1736- 1794; pol ygraph IIl1d lawyer; exC(:uted on the guilloliue.) J . B. Pujoulx . 1'(lris tllll fin €In XVII I' .~iec/e( l'lIris, 180 I), pp . 102103. 0 Colporlage 0 (QJ,3]
"Waiting" can be associated with the exhibition of imperial panoramas as much as with boredom. It is highly significant that 8rod, in a gloss on "panorama," hits upon all the keywords of this investigation: "fashion," "boredom," "gaslight," ~ro_
~~
"A melange of Morgue and Muscc de Luxembourg": this was how Jules C laretie characterized the battle panoramas. La Vie Ii Pam, 1881 (Paris), p. 438.10 t.hae panoramas we perceive that wars, tOO, arc subject to fashion. Max Brod, in his "Panorama," sees "inactive officers ... searching about for suitable battlefields [0 wage their imaginary colonial wars." II is a wardrobe of battles : the impecuniOUS come and look around to see if somewhere there is not a used battlefield they can make their OWll without going to great expense. (QJ ,5] Play 0 11 words with "-ralllo" nillg of Pere Gorio!.:
(0 11
the modd of ;'diora lna" ) iJI Balzac. a t the
besin[QJ. ,6]
SelUp of the panoramas: View from a raised platfonn. surrounded by a balustrade, of surfaces lying round about and beneath. 111e painring runs along a cylindrical wall approxim ately a hundred meters long and twenty meters high. TIle principal panoramas of the great panorama painter Prevost: Paris, Toulon, Rome, Naples, Amsterdam. Tt.lsit, Wagrdm, CaJais, Antwerp, London, Aorenee, Jerusalem, Athens. Among his pupils: Dab'lterrc. [Q}.a ,l] 1838; Ihe !lotontle de,. Pa nurum3S eOlls trll('ICll lIy lIiuorff. D Irull [
[Q).,2[ [Q) •.3i
, A paJlo~a under COflSIruCDOn, in an ima~ originally published in L'llluJlration. Courtesy of tht Syndicat Automl' lind VCTlagsgescllschaft, Frankfurt am Main. Se~ Q.! 3,1.
It remains to be discovered what is meant when, in the dioramas, the variations in . ligh~g which the passing day brings to a landscape take place in fifteen or thirty mmutcs. Here is something like a sportive. precursor of fast·morio n cinema. t~phy-a witty, and somewhat malicious, "dancing" acccleration of time, wluch, by way of contrast, ma kes one think of the hopelessness of a mimesis, as Bretqn evokes it in NadjQ: the painter who in late afternoon sets lip his easel before the Vieux·Pon in Marseilles and, in the waning lighl of day, constantly alters the Iight·relations in his picture, until it shows only darkness. For Breton, however, it was "unfinished."J [Ql a,4]
To rdleet rigorously
0 11 the particular pathos that lies hidden in the art of the panoramas. On the particular relation of this an to nature but also and above all . ' , , to history. How peruliar this relation was may be gathered from these sen· :.: IIC£S by W!ertz. whose painting, in fact, has a disrincLly panoramic tendency. r~lere has been much talk of reaJiSIll in painting. Gener.tlly speaking. paintings wluch arc called 'rcaJisric' are rarely in keeping with lhis rubric. Pure realism oUght to manage things SO that a represented object wouJd seem within reach of yOur hand .. . . If, in general, what is properly tenned trompe·l'oeil has been little appreciated; that is because lip until now this genre of painting has been practiced only by mediocre: paintC.fs, by sign painters, those restricted lllel"Cly to the re:pre.
sentauon of U:rtam still-life objects .... Will the example of M . Wieru gi~ birth to a new genre?" Commentary on La CurieuJe. in the catalogue written by the painter himself and entitled L'Att/ier (Ie M . Wierh.. In (kuum /ittirajres <Paris, 1870>, pp. 501-502. 1Q).,5] " Nortumoroma. A new "ort of L'O licerl will entertain the fashionable society of Paris this ,,;nter. AJI that the music expresses , durins these concerts , will be rm~ up-rell villihle t1lrougll painted lrallspaN:ucif:s of 8ulM'!rior fluality. Haydn ', Crea,.. tion iR UI rehearsal ulld. accompanied h y the appropriate phantasmagorias, will no doubt doubly capti va te the senses of the audience.. I To me, however. this arrange.. ment ~~ms morc suited 10 gay and IJenlimental diversions thaD to thili ~rea t work. I Thus, fur example. a litrikingly lifelike and moving portrait of Malibran is to "1'I)eo r, while, behind the Hcenes, a very hnt' s in~er tleLiverll an ita lian aria-.. though oue were hearing the sbade of Malibran sing." August Lewald . Album der Boudoir$ (Leipzig and Stuuga rt , 1836). Pl" 42-43 . [QJ.a,6] From time to time in hi, d iorama , Daguerre would have, a mong otlu~ r things, ~ Church or Saint-Etienne du Mont. Midnight Mass. With or~ap. At the end : extin[QJ.s,1) guishing or caudJes. The fact that film today articulates all problems of modem form-giving-undc:J-. stood as questions of its own technical e.:cistence-and does so in the most strin gent, most concrete. most critical fashion, is important for the following comparison of panoramas with this medium. "The vogue fo r panoramas, among which tlle panorama of Boulogne was especially remarkable. corresponds to the vogue for cinematographs today. The covered arcades, of the type of the Passage des Panoramas. were also beginning their Parisian fortunes then." Marcd RXte, Une Vit de citi Paris (Pari;, 1925). p. 326. (QJ.a,8J .J acques- Luuu) David e:d ltlrted his I tullents to ma ke studies of nature in the 1Q) ,,9] panorama. '" Many people imagine that art can be perfected indelinitdy. This is an error_ There is a limit at which it stops. And here is why: it is because the conditions in which the imitation of nature is confined are immutable. One wants a picturethat is to say, a Bat surface. surrOlUlded or not surrounded by a frame-and on this surface a representatio n produced exclusively by means of various colored substances .. . . Within these conditions, which constirute the picture, e~rything has been attempted. TIle most difficult problem was perfect relief, deep perspectives carried to the most complete illusion. The stereoscope resolved it." A. J. Wiem.. (ku llm lil/iraim (Paris, 1870), p. 364. This comrm:nt not only ~ws an interesting light o n the points of view from which people looked at things lik.e stereoramas in those days: it also shows very dearly that lhe theory of "progress" in the arts is bound up ,'lith lhe idea of lhe imitation of nature, and must be discussed in the context of this idea. [Qt,l}
-fbe multiple deploymem of figures in the wax museum opens a way to the colportage phenomenon of space and hence (0 the funclamcmal ambiguity of the arcades. TIle wax statues and busts-of which one is mday an emperor, tomor. row a politicaJ subversive, and the next day a liveried attendant;