Candide—discussion, chapter 12-22

"In the different countries which it has been my fate to traverse,

and at the many inns where I have been a servant, I have observed a

prodigious number of people who held their existence in abhorrence,

and yet I never knew more than twelve who voluntarily put an end to

their misery.”—The Old Woman (chapter 12)—one of the essential questions in Hamlet

"It is a thousand pities," said Candide, "that the sage Pangloss

should have been hanged contrary to the custom of an auto-da-fe, for

he would have given us a most admirable lecture on the moral and

physical evil which overspreads the earth and sea; and I think I

should have courage enough to presume to offer (with all due

respect) some few objections." – Candide (chapter 13)

The Jesuits--evangelism

She was nowhere to be found; but the bodies of my father, mother, and myself, with

Two servant maids and three little boys, all of whom had been murdered by the

remorseless enemy, were thrown into a cart to be buried in a chapel

belonging to the Jesuits, within two leagues of our family seat. A

Jesuit sprinkled us with some holy water, which was confounded

salty, and a few drops of it went into my eyes; the father perceived

that my eyelids stirred a little; he put his hand upon my breast and

felt my heartbeat; upon which he gave me proper assistance, and at the

end of three weeks I was perfectly recovered.”  Cunegonde’s brother—the Jesuit—(chapter 15).

"Good God!" cried he, "I have killed my old master, my friend, my

brother-in-law. I am the best man in the world, and yet I have already

killed three men, and of these three, two were priests."—Candide (chapter 15)

While he was making these reflections he still continued eating. The

sun was now on the point of setting when the ears of our two wanderers

were assailed with cries which seemed to be uttered by a female voice.

They could not tell whether these were cries of grief or of joy;

however, they instantly started up, full of that inquietude and

apprehension which a strange place naturally inspires. The cries

proceeded from two young women who were tripping disrobed along the

mead, while two monkeys followed close at their heels biting at

their limbs. Candide was touched with compassion; he had learned to

shoot while he was among the Bulgarians, and he could hit a filbert in

a hedge without touching a leaf. Accordingly he took up his

double-barrelled Spanish gun, pulled the trigger, and laid the two

monkeys lifeless on the ground.

  "God be praised, my dear Cacambo, I have rescued two poor girls from

a most perilous situation; if I have committed a sin in killing an

Inquisitor and a Jesuit, I have made ample amends by saving the

lives of these two distressed damsels. Who knows but they may be young

ladies of a good family, and that the assistance I have been so

happy to give them may procure us great advantage in this country.

He had more to say, but his mouth shut suddenly, when he saw the girls

embracing the monkeys tenderly, weeping over their bodies,

and filling the air with lamentations."

I wasn’t looking for quite so much generosity of spirit. –Candide--Verbal Irony (chapter 16)

Biglugs

El Dorado

“When you are pretty comfortable somewhere, you had better stay there”—the king of El Dorado (chapter 18)

Sweatshops and Nike

and it is at this expense that you eat sugar in Europe—black sugar plantation slave (chapter 19).

Martin

and the Manichees—two opposite forces—battleground is within us—good = soul and light; bad—body and dark earth.

Chapters 21-end

"Do you think," said Candide, "that mankind always massacred one

another as they do now? Were they always guilty of lies, fraud,

treachery, ingratitude, inconstancy, envy, ambition, and cruelty? Were

they always thieves, fools, cowards, gluttons, drunkards, misers,

calumniators, debauchees, fanatics, and hypocrites?"

  "Do you believe," said Martin, "that hawks have always been

accustomed to eat pigeons when they came in their way?"

  "Doubtless," said Candide.

  "Well then," replied Martin, "if hawks have always had the same

nature, why should you pretend that mankind change theirs?"—Candide and Martin (chapter 21)

Rousseau—uncorrupted morals prevail in a state of nature.

Chapter 22

"Yes," said Candide, "and I have seen worse than all that; and yet a

learned man, who had the misfortune to be hanged, taught me that

everything was marvelously well, and that these evils you are speaking

of were only so many shades in a beautiful picture."

  "Your hempen sage," said Martin, "laughed at you; these shades, as

you call them, are most horrible blemishes."

  "The men make these blemishes," rejoined Candide, "and they cannot

do otherwise."

  "Then it is not their fault," added Martin.

The scorpion and the frog

Chapter 23

The admiral’s execution

"What the devil is all this for?" said Candide, "and what demon,

or foe of mankind, lords it thus tyrannically over the world?"

  He then asked who was that lusty man who had been sent out of the

world with so much ceremony. When he received for answer, that it

was an admiral.

"And pray why do you put your admiral to death?"

  "Because he did not put a sufficient number of his fellow

creatures to death. You must know, he had engaged in a battle with a

French admiral, and it has been proved against him that he did not get close enough to the French admiral’s ship.

  "But," replied Candide, "the French admiral must have been as far

from him."

"There is no doubt of that; but in this country it is useful from time to time, to put an admiral to death, in order toencourage the others to fight."

Chapter 24

Candide says to Martin.  It would have been better to stay in the earthly paradise of El Dorado than to return to this accursed Europe.  You are right, my dear Martin, all is but illusion and disaster.

Paquette’s story—she has been forced to become a prostitute to survive.

The role of money:

Candide gave two thousand piastres to Pacquette, and a thousand to

Friar Giroflee, saying, "I will answer that this will make them

happy."

  "I am not of your opinion," said Martin, "perhaps this money will

only make them wretched."

Today’s lottery winners

Chapter 25--Venice

Pococurante, the senator, ennui

Art, music, literature--Homer

For those who suffered through World Literature I,

  "Homer is no favorite of mine," answered Pococurante, coolly, "I was

made to believe once that I took a pleasure in reading him; but his

continual repetitions of battles have all such a resemblance with each

other; his gods that are forever in haste and bustle, without ever

doing anything; his Helen, who is the cause of the war, and yet hardly

acts in the whole performance; his Troy, that holds out so long,

without being taken: in short, all these things together make the poem

very insipid to me. I have asked some learned men, whether they are

not in reality as much tired as myself with reading this poet: those

who spoke ingenuously, assured me that he had made them fall asleep,

and yet that they could not well avoid giving him a place in their

libraries; but that it was merely as they would do an antique, or

those rusty medals which are kept only for curiosity, and are of no

manner of use in commerce."

Chapter 26

Candide meets Cacambo, who is now a slave

Rulers and Royalty

"I am not joking in the least, my name is Achmet III. I was Grand

Sultan for many years; I dethroned my brother, my nephew dethroned me,

my viziers lost their heads, and I am condemned to end my days in

the old seraglio. My nephew, the Grand Sultan Mahomet, gives me

permission to travel sometimes for my health, and I am come to spend

the Carnival at Venice."

Chapter 27—they head to Constantinople (present day Istanbul, Turkey

Candide, still clinging to hope:

"You see we supped in company with six dethroned Kings, and to one

of them I gave charity. Perhaps there may be a great many other

princes still more unfortunate. For my part I have lost only a hundred

sheep, and am now going to fly to the arms of my charming Miss

Cunegund. My dear Martin, I must insist on it, that Pangloss was in

the right. All is for the best."

Fleeting beauty

"Well," said he, "what news of Miss Cunegund? Does she still

continue the paragon of beauty? Does she love me still? How does she

do? You have, doubtless, purchased a superb palace for her at

Constantinople."

  "My dear master," replied Cacambo, "Miss Cunegund washes dishes on

the banks of the Propontis, in the house of a prince who has very

few to wash. She is at present a slave in the family of an ancient

sovereign named Ragotsky, whom the Grand Turk allows three crowns a

day to maintain him in his exile; but the most melancholy circumstance

of all is, that she is turned horribly ugly."

Meets again Pangloss and the Baron’s son, who are now galley slaves

He buys their freedom—Jewish stereotype--prejudice

Chapter 28

The baron’s son’s story:

Pardon," said Candide to the Baron; "once more let me entreat your

pardon, Reverend Father, for running you through the body."

“Don’t mention it,” replied the baron’s son.

Pangloss’s Optimism

"Well, my dear Pangloss," said Candide to him, "when You were

hanged, dissected, whipped, and tugging at the oar, did you continue

to think that everything in this world happens for the best?"

  "I have always abided by my first opinion," answered Pangloss; "for,

after all, I am a philosopher, and it would not become me to retract

my sentiments; especially as Leibnitz could not be in the wrong: and

that preestablished harmony is the finest thing in the world, as

well as a plenum and the materia subtilis."

Pangloss’s story

"It is true," answered Pangloss, "you saw me hanged, though I

ought properly to have been burned; but you may remember, that it

rained extremely hard when they were going to roast me. The storm

was so violent that they found it impossible to light the fire; so

they hanged me because they could do no better. A surgeon purchased my

body, carried it home, and prepared to dissect me. He began by

making a crucial incision from my navel to the clavicle. It is

impossible for anyone to have been more lamely hanged than I had been.

The executioner was a subdeacon, and knew how to burn people very

well, but as for hanging, he was a novice at it, being quite out of

practice; the cord being wet, and not slipping properly, the noose did

not join. In short, I still continued to breathe; the crucial incision

made me scream to such a degree, that my surgeon fell flat upon his

back; and imagining it was the Devil he was dissecting, ran away,

and in his fright tumbled down stairs. His wife hearing the noise,

flew from the next room, and seeing me stretched upon the table with

my crucial incision, was still more terrified than her husband, and

fell upon him. When they had a little recovered themselves, I heard

her say to her husband, 'My dear, how could you think of dissecting

a heretic? Don't you know that the Devil is always in them? I'll run

directly to a priest to come and drive the evil spirit out.' I

trembled from head to foot at hearing her talk in this manner, and

exerted what little strength I had left to cry out, 'Have mercy on

me!' At length the Portuguese barber took courage, sewed up my

wound, and his wife nursed me; and I was upon my legs in a fortnight's

time.

Chapter 29

The first objects

they beheld there, were Miss Cunegund and the old woman, who were

hanging some tablecloths on a line to dry.

  The Baron turned pale at the sight. Even the tender Candide, that

affectionate lover, upon seeing his fair Cunegund all sunburned,

with bleary eyes, a withered neck, wrinkled face and arms, all covered

with a red scurf, started back with horror; but, not withstanding,

recovering himself, he advanced towards her out of good manners. She

embraced Candide and her brother; they embraced the old woman, and

Candide ransomed them both.

  There was a small farm in the neighborhood which the old woman

proposed to Candide to make shift with till the company should meet

with a more favorable destiny. Cunegund, not knowing that she was

grown ugly, as no one had informed her of it, reminded Candide of

his promise in so peremptory a manner, that the simple lad did not

dare to refuse her; he then acquainted the Baron that he was going

to marry his sister.

  "I will never suffer," said the Baron, "my sister to be guilty of an

action so derogatory to her birth and family; nor will I bear this

insolence on your part. No, I never will be reproached that my nephews

are not qualified for the first ecclesiastical dignities in Germany;

nor shall a sister of mine ever be the wife of any person below the

rank of Baron of the Empire."

Cunegund flung herself at her brother's feet, and bedewed them

with her tears; but he still continued inflexible.

  "Thou foolish fellow, said Candide, "have I not delivered thee

from the galleys, paid thy ransom, and thy sister's, too, who was a

scullion, and is very ugly, and yet condescend to marry her? and shalt

thou pretend to oppose the match! If I were to listen only to the

dictates of my anger, I should kill thee again."

  "Thou mayest kill me again," said the Baron; "but thou shalt not

marry my sister while I am living."

Back to the galleys

CHAPTER 30

  Conclusion

Candide had, in truth, no great inclination to marry Miss

Cunegund; but the extreme impertinence of the Baron determined him

to conclude the match; and Cunegund pressed him so warmly, that he

could not recant. He consulted Pangloss, Martin, and the faithful

Cacambo. Pangloss composed a fine memorial, by which he proved that

the Baron had no right over his sister; and that she might,

according to all the laws of the Empire, marry Candide with the left

hand. Martin concluded to throw the Baron into the sea; Cacambo

decided that he must be delivered to the Turkish captain and sent to

the galleys; after which he should be conveyed by the first ship to

the Father General at Rome. This advice was found to be good; the

old woman approved of it, and not a syllable was said to his sister;

the business was executed for a little money; and they had the

pleasure of tricking a Jesuit, and punishing the pride of a German

baron.

  It was altogether natural to imagine, that after undergoing so

many disasters, Candide, married to his mistress and living with the

philosopher Pangloss, the philosopher Martin, the prudent Cacambo, and

the old woman, having besides brought home so many diamonds from the

country of the ancient Incas, would lead the most agreeable life in

the world. But he had been so robbed by the Jews, that he had

nothing left but his little farm; his wife, every day growing more and

more ugly, became headstrong and insupportable; the old woman was

infirm, and more ill-natured yet than Cunegund. Cacambo, who worked in

the garden, and carried the produce of it to sell in Constantinople,

was above his labor, and cursed his fate. Pangloss despaired of making

a figure in any of the German universities. And as to Martin, he was

firmly persuaded that a person is equally ill-situated everywhere.

He took things with patience.

Candide, Martin, and Pangloss disputed sometimes about metaphysics

and morality. Boats were often seen passing under the windows of the

farm laden with effendis, bashaws, and cadis, that were going into

banishment to Lemnos, Mytilene and Erzerum. And other cadis,

bashaws, and effendis were seen coming back to succeed the place of

the exiles, and were driven out in their turns. They saw several heads

curiously stuck upon poles, and carried as presents to the Sublime

Porte. Such sights gave occasion to frequent dissertations; and when

no disputes were in progress, the irksomeness was so excessive that

the old woman ventured one day to tell them:

  "I would be glad to know which is worst, to be ravished a hundred

times by Negro pirates, to have one buttock cut off, to run the

gauntlet among the Bulgarians, to be whipped and hanged at an

auto-da-fe, to be dissected, to be chained to an oar in a galley; and,

in short, to experience all the miseries through which every one of us

hath passed, or to remain here doing nothing?"

  "This," said Candide, "is a grand question."

  This discourse gave birth to new reflections, and Martin

especially concluded that man was born to live in the convulsions of

disquiet, or in the lethargy of idleness. Though Candide did not

absolutely agree to this, yet he did not determine anything on that

head. Pangloss avowed that he had undergone dreadful sufferings; but

having once maintained that everything went on as well as possible, he

still maintained it, and at the same time believed nothing of it.

  There was one thing which more than ever confirmed Martin in his

detestable principles, made Candide hesitate, and embarrassed

Pangloss, which was the arrival of Pacquette and Brother Giroflee

one day at their farm. This couple had been in the utmost distress;

they had very speedily made away with their three thousand piastres;

they had parted, been reconciled; quarreled again, been thrown into

prison; had made their escape, and at last Brother Giroflee had turned

Turk. Pacquette still continued to follow her trade; but she got

little or nothing by it.

  "I foresaw very well," said Martin to Candide "that your presents

would soon be squandered, and only make them more miserable. You and

Cacambo have spent millions of piastres, and yet you are not more

happy than Brother Giroflee and Pacquette."

  "Ah!" said Pangloss to Pacquette, "it is Heaven that has brought you

here among us, my poor child! Do you know that you have cost me the

tip of my nose, one eye, and one ear? What a handsome shape is here!

and what is this world!"

  This new adventure engaged them more deeply than ever in

philosophical disputations.

  In the neighborhood lived a famous dervish who passed for the best

philosopher in Turkey; they went to consult him: Pangloss, who was

their spokesman, addressed him thus:

  "Master, we come to entreat you to tell us why so strange an

animal as man has been formed?"

  "Why do you trouble your head about it?" said the dervish; "is it

any business of yours?"

  "But, Reverend Father," said Candide, "there is a horrible deal of

evil on the earth."

  "What signifies it," said the dervish, "whether there is evil or

good? When His Highness sends a ship to Egypt does he trouble his head

whether the rats on board are comfortable or not?"

  "What must then be done?" said Pangloss.

  "Be silent," answered the dervish.

  "I flattered myself," replied Pangloss, "to have reasoned a little

with you on the causes and effects, on the best of possible worlds,

the origin of evil, the nature of the soul, and a pre-established

harmony."

  At these words the dervish shut the door in their faces.

  During this conversation, news was spread abroad that two viziers of

the bench and the mufti had just been strangled at Constantinople, and

several of their friends impaled. This catastrophe made a great

noise for some hours. Pangloss, Candide, and Martin, as they were

returning to the little farm, met with a good-looking old man, who was

taking the air at his door, under an alcove formed of the boughs of

orange trees. Pangloss, who was as inquisitive as he was

disputative, asked him what was the name of the mufti who was lately

strangled.

  "I cannot tell," answered the good old man; "I never knew the name

of any mufti, or vizier breathing. I am entirely ignorant of the event

you speak of; I presume that in general such as are concerned in

public affairs sometimes come to a miserable end; and that they

deserve it: but I never inquire what is doing at Constantinople; I

am contented with sending thither the produce of my garden, which I

cultivate with my own hands."

  After saying these words, he invited the strangers to come into

his house. His two daughters and two sons presented them with divers

sorts of sherbet of their own making; besides caymac, heightened

with the peels of candied citrons, oranges, lemons, pineapples,

pistachio nuts, and Mocha coffee unadulterated with the bad coffee

of Batavia or the American islands. After which the two daughters of

this good Mussulman perfumed the beards of Candide, Pangloss, and

Martin.

  "You must certainly have a vast estate," said Candide to the Turk.

  "I have no more than twenty acres of ground," he replied, "the whole

of which I cultivate myself with the help of my children; and our

labor keeps off from us three great evils-boredom, vice, and poverty."

Candide, as he was returning home, made profound reflections on

the Turk's discourse.

  "This good old man," said he to Pangloss and Martin, "appears to

me to have chosen for himself a lot much preferable to that of the six

Kings with whom we had the honor to sup."

  "Human grandeur," said Pangloss, "is very dangerous, if we believe

the testimonies of almost all philosophers; for we find Eglon, King of

Moab, was assassinated by Aod; Absalom was hanged by the hair of his

head, and run through with three darts; King Nadab, son of Jeroboam,

was slain by Baaza; King Ela by Zimri; Okosias by Jehu; Athaliah by

Jehoiada; the Kings Jehooiakim, Jeconiah, and Zedekiah, were led

into captivity: I need not tell you what was the fate of Croesus,

Astyages, Darius, Dionysius of Syracuse, Pyrrhus, Perseus, Hannibal,

Jugurtha, Ariovistus, Caesar, Pompey, Nero, Otho, Vitellius, Domitian,

Richard II of England, Edward II, Henry VI, Richard Ill, Mary

Stuart, Charles I, the three Henrys of France, and the Emperor Henry

IV."

  "Neither need you tell me," said Candide, "that we must take care of

our garden."

  "You are in the right," said Pangloss; "for when man was put into

the garden of Eden, it was with an intent to dress it; and this proves

that man was not born to be idle."

  "Work then without disputing," said Martin; "it is the only way to

render life supportable."

  The little society, one and all, entered into this laudable design

and set themselves to exert their different talents. The little

piece of ground yielded them a plentiful crop. Cunegund indeed was

very ugly, but she became an excellent hand at pastrywork: Pacquette

embroidered; the old woman had the care of the linen. There was

none, down to Brother Giroflee, but did some service; he was a very

good carpenter, and became an honest man. Pangloss used now and then

to say to Candide:

  "There is a concatenation of all events in the best of possible

worlds; for, in short, had you not been kicked out of a fine castle

for the love of Miss Cunegund; had you not been put into the

Inquisition; had you not traveled over America on foot; had you not

run the Baron through the body; and had you not lost all your sheep,

which you brought from the good country of El Dorado, you would not

have been here to eat preserved citrons and pistachio nuts."

"Excellently observed," answered Candide; "but let us cultivate

our garden."