CANDIDE, or OPTIMISM
an analytical essay
François-Marie Arouet, more well known by his penname Voltaire, had Candide, or Optimism first published in 1759. Candide, or Optimism is a satirical work that aimed to explore and expose the dystopian reality of 18th century Europe. Voltaire also explored the philosophy of Gottfried Leibniz, a German who espoused that, since the universe had been created by God, then everything in the universe was as good as it possibly could be. This led to a form of optimism that Voltaire parodied through the philosophy of the character Pangloss.
The protagonist of Candide is a naïve boy of the same name as the title. Candide lived in the castle of Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh in Westphalia, who had a very hefty wife and a beautiful daughter named Cunégonde, with whom Candide was quite taken. In addition, in the Baron's employ was the "great" philosopher Pangloss, who, as a satire of Leibniz, teaches a type of nonsensical indefatigable optimism to which both Candide and Cunégonde are adherents.
In the novel, Voltaire attacks and ridicules most vehemently what he calls "International Law." He also attacks European high-culture, the religious institutions, as well as the military institutions so prevalent and so revered in Europe.
- Panglossianism
- Europe
- High culture
- Religion and its
institutions
- Militarism
- "International Law"
- Human nature
- Our tendencies
- Utopia, or El Dorado
- The end
Panglossianism
The philosopher Pangloss insists that everything is always for the best.
His philosophy also uses deductive reasoning, an example of which would be as
follows: noses were created for spectacles to be
placed upon, and thus is the reason we have spectacles (2). When Jacques, the
philanthropist Anabaptist, is drowned in Lisbon harbor, it is Pangloss who
prevents Candide from intervening, citing that the harbor was created for the
express purpose of the drowning. These are only two examples of Panglossianism,
the philosophy which also makes a habit of
ignoring that which it does not know, taking what information is currently
available and treating it as all the information in existence. For
example, Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh's castle is quite fine, and is perhaps the
best in Westphalia; since they know nothing of the area outside Westphalia nor
the castles there, Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh's is necessarily the best castle in
existence. Panglossianism also dictates that while personal individual
misfortune may occur, it simply means better for the collective good.
Hence, it is impossible that things should ever not be well, for the most
serious individual misfortune simply means the good fortune of all others;
inversely, it may be assumed that collective misfortune would simply mean the
greatest amount of individual fortune.
Candide, having taken Pangloss' philosophy to heart, remains an indefatigable optimist throughout much of the book. His ideological opposite is Martin, the indefatigable pessimist who is quite convinced that nothing in the world will go right, and anything that does is simply a pleasant surprise, which will make the inevitable failures all that much worse. Candide largely retains his optimist outlook until he comes across a Dutch slave who had suffered the injustices of having an arm and a leg chopped off, and having been forced to wait for his white master whilst lying on the ground (54). After this encounter, Candide is so dismayed at the treatment of his fellow man that he renounces Pangloss' optimism, deciding that everything is not for the best. It is not too long later, however, that Candide reverts to looking for positive aspects to everything negative that he encounters.
Europe
Throughout the novel, Voltaire uses his characters to satirize
different aspects of European culture and thought. Voltaire uses the
characters' interactions, traits, and his own narration to satirize the concepts
and facets of so many accepted European norms.
High Culture
Within the first two pages of the novel, Voltaire makes many vicious
attacks on European nobility and their culture of pretentiousness. Baron
Thunder-ten-tronckh's vicar and grooms, "called him 'Your Lordship', and laughed
at his jokes" (2). Obviously sarcasm, Voltaire is pointing out the
ridiculous quality of the false-respect that the Baron receives based on his status
and his status alone. In reality, the Baron has no redeeming qualities
other than the things he owns, such as his castle (the best in Westphalia, for
it has windows, a door, and a tapestry [1]) and his undeserved power.
Voltaire's sardonic explanation of the indicators of the Baron's greatness (the
windows, his door, and the tapestry adorning the hallway) is a crack at the
ridiculous lengths to which the nobles competed amongst themselves for prestige.
The Baron's sister is presumed by an old servant of the Baron to be the mother of Candide, the father purported to be a local and upstanding gentleman of the neighborhood, whom the Baron's sister had repeatedly refused to marry. The sole reason the Baron's sister refused to marry the gentleman is that he had only been able to establish only 71 heraldic quarterings (1). By this, Voltaire is satirizing the nobles' preoccupation and obsession with heritage (and, by association, race and class). The irony is that, later in the book, it is learned that Cunégonde has only 72 heraldic quarterings, which would obviously leave the Baron's sister with a mere 71, the same as the local gentleman.
While Voltaire was obviously opposed to the posturing and pretentiousness of the nobility and kings, he still had a great love of monarchy, his ideal society of El Dorado being run by a benevolent absolutist king. When in El Dorado, when faced with the prospect of meeting the king, Cacambo asks of one of the Grand Officers what they should do upon meeting the king--"Should one fall on one's knees or flat on the ground; should one put one's hand on one's head or over one's backside; should one lick the dust off the floor?" The response is that the local custom is to embrace the king and kiss him on both his cheeks (50). There could not be a clearer and more cutting ridicule of the manner in which royalty, like nobility, act. What could be more pretentious, more ostentatious, more unbefitting of any man that he should make others prostrate themselves debasingly in his presence? Voltaire's idea of an enlightened monarch is one who does not have any illusions about his rank or himself, that knows that his status and rank does not make him more holy than the next man, or the right to force his subjects to act unnaturally subservient.
Voltaire also scathingly portrays the snobbery of European high culture with multiple instances of supposedly cultured individuals turning up their noses to absolutely everything simply for the sake of doing so. Candide is confronted by one such person at a play which he considered to be done brilliantly, but which is snidely commented upon by the gentleman next to him (63). He is again confronted with this when in the house of what one would consider an erudite individual, who has qualms with all literature considered classic, all theological and scientific texts, the finest paintings in all of Europe, and so many other facets of culture and life (79-83). The elite turn their noses up at everything for the sake of feeling self-important, while Candide, being of no such social standing or mental belief, calls a spade a spade, if you will.
Religion and its institutions
Voltaire uses the story line and his
characters and his characters' views to portray the various churches in a
different light than the average European citizen might have. In addition,
he attacks vehemently the relations between the different sects.
After the slaying of two men, one a church official, Candide is forced to flee to Spain. His manservant, Cacambo, says, "you were going to fight the Jesuits. Let's go fight for them instead" (34). The ease in which Cacambo suggests this and Candide agrees outlines how facetious things like allegiance can be, both to one's country and to one's religious sect.
Voltaire continues to ridicule the church throughout the book, portraying the church officials as avaricious, immoral, and corrupt. A monk steals jewels from Candide and Cunégonde (23). Church officials have sex with or rape many women throughout the book. Church logic and doctrine is portrayed best when the University of Coimbra determines, "that the spectacle of a few people being ceremonially burnt over a low flame is the infallible secret of preventing earthquakes" (14). Supposedly infallible church doctrine is headed by groups who are totally unaware of how the world actually works, and simply make it their job to appease the masses.
Formal religious institution is also attacked viciously when Candide and Cacambo are in El Dorado. Upon asking a native El Doradoan if they have priests to whom they speak in order to commune with God, Candide is laughed at. " 'What!' " Candide exclaims, "You man you don't have any monks to teach and dispute and govern and intrigue and burn people to death who don't agree with them?' " (49) This quote, once again, portrays the church for what Voltaire felt it really was--a corrupt, illegitimate, artificial, controlling, unnecessary institution.
Cacambo's explanation of the way los Padres run things in Paraguay is a forerunner to contemporary Communism (say, of the Soviet Union), where los Padres own everything and the people nothing, los Padres allowing the people to live on and use their land. Additionally, los Padres, Cacambo states, are wholly right and divine in their making war upon the Kings of Spain in Paraguay while acting as confessors to them in Europe (34-35).
Militarism
Voltaire attacks, in numerous parts of the book, the European obsession
with military service, and the prestige that supposedly comes with it.
Voltaire describes the Abar and Bulgar armies the most fine, dashing,
glittering, and well-regulated armies in history (6). The beautiful armies
then proceed to annihilate each other, to the tune of a total of thirty thousand
soldiers killed over a conflict for which the reason is not given. In
addition, Voltaire writes through Pangloss, "those great armies of fine,
upstanding, well-bred mercenaries who decide the destiny of nations" (10). He
facetiously refers to soldiers as heroes, while unabashedly illuminates the
actions which the supposed heroes undertake.
"Heroes" meant to defend the Pope's daughter immediately lay down their arms in surrender when confronted (26). Heroes of various countries rape woman upon woman throughout the book, along with copious amounts of pillage and murder. Various heroes rape Cunégonde, Pope Urban X's daughter, untold maids and lady helpers, and wind up killing or attempting to kill the majority of them. If heroes act in this way, Voltaire propositions, then what exactly is a hero? How can one look up to a hero if he commits such abhorrent behavior? The real tragedy is that the behavior is condoned under what Voltaire describes as "International Law."
International Law
Whenever some horrible atrocity is committed by a soldier or sailor, it
is inevitably explained that such things are acceptable (and, really,
encouraged) under International Law. During the war between the Abars and
the Bulgars, Candide travels to an Abar village which had been burned to the
ground, the inhabitants of which were all murdered, throats slit, disemboweled,
burned half to death, raped, or some combination of these gruesome methods of
killing. Of course, this was all acceptable, being in accordance to
International Law, which apparently states that the enemy's citizens are not
real people. Candide continues on his journey, coming across a Bulgar
village which had been given the exact same treatment by Abar heroes (6-7).
Cunégonde receives treatment under the accepted conduct of International Law, too, when her father's castle is ransacked by the Bulgars. She relates how she was at first raped by a Bulgar soldier. When she fought back, "little realizing that was was taking place [ . . . ] was standard practice," the soldier stabbed her in the side and continued the raping (18). The soldier was not long after killed by a Bulgar captain for his conduct. The humanitarian captain then valiantly brought Cunégonde back to his chambers after getting her bandaged up and proceeded to rape her as well (since the captain had not killed the soldier out of moral principle, but, instead, because the soldier had not shown him the proper respect when he neglected to salute upon the captain's entrance to the room). None of this, of course, was anything that she should think unjust, since it is writ in International Law that such things are the norm. Cunégonde was later sold to a person-trading Jew named Don Issacar, who then was forced to share her with the Grand Inquisitor.
The daughter of Pope Urban X, Cunégonde's maid in Lisbon, tells her tale in response to Cunégonde stating that her luck is the most absolute unfortunate. The old woman says two particular things of interest in the telling of her tale: she tells of how she was anally violated, and she brushes off the multitude of rapes she received. When she was captured by a Moroccan corsair from Salé, whose sailors stuck fingers up their anuses, as it's told, in order to search for hidden diamonds. According to the old woman, this is a time-honored tradition that is commonplace and expected in "all civilized seafaring nations" (26). Of course, because International Law includes it, this means that such practices as sticking one's finger up a prisoner's anus are acceptable and the practice is beyond question. The old woman, then young and beautiful, and her mother, ladies-in-waiting, and maids are then captured by Moroccan pirates, the captain of whom rapes and deflowers the now-old-woman, the Pope's daughter. She mentions the atrocity and brushes it off as something far too commonplace to warrant further discussion (26). How is it that, among "civilized" nations, something like rape can be so commonplace that it doesn't even deserve mention beyond a cursory one? Voltaire, in this instance, clearly highlights the hypocrisy behind the idea of "civilized European nations."
After that, she (the Pope's daughter) is eventually caught in a castle which is comes under siege in Constantinople. The starving soldiers are convinced to, instead of outright kill the women and eat them, simply cut off one of each of the twenty women's buttocks and use that for sustenance. After the castle is overrun by the Russians, a French surgeon heals the then-young-woman, and tries to assuage her grief by informing her that such things happened in many sieges, and was a standard practice (indeed, a law) in warfare (30).
If brute nations are those without laws, then civilized nations must be those who strictly adhere to them. The European nations have indeed created an International Law, which governs only warfare as far as the novel is concerned, to which they adhere quite strictly. In fact, so strictly, that its principles (such as rape and pillage) are accepted without question or protest. One may shudder at the thought of what brute nations must do. Of course, it is also possible that "brute" nations, those who do not hold the law above all else, are more just, fair, and not morally repulsive or insane.
Human Nature
Voltaire also makes a point of calling human nature into focus at points
in the novel. His three main points revolve around how he perceives human
nature, and its seeming inverse, the utopia of El Dorado. To complement El
Dorado, in the end of the novel, Voltaire also draws attention to what he
considers the most fulfilling existence a person may have within the world as it
stands now in any place that is not the utopian El Dorado.
Our tendencies
Humans have so many ridiculous psychological tendencies. Voltaire
highlights a number of them, such as our irrational desire to live although we
proclaim otherwise, our love of money, and the belief that money will bring
happiness.
Pope Urban X's daughter, the old woman who served as Cunégonde's maid, explains how she refused to end her life through her trials and tribulations during her constant, horrible, and always changing captivity. "A hundred times I wanted to kill myself," she says, "but still I loved life." She continues to say that she has seen countless people who hated their lives, but only a select few who actually went through with the act of suicide (30-31).
Candide finds himself constantly assaulted by those looking for money whenever it is surmised that he has a large quantity. When arriving in France, he is almost immediately surrounded by doctors, prostitutes, and others looking to extort as much money as possible from him (62). With his fortune, Candide finds perhaps the most caring and well-meaning people in all of France, all of whom just so happened to have flocked to him. When Candide's illness becomes serious thanks to the doctor's constant bleedings and administering of potions, Candide finds himself faced with a priest who asks for money in order for Candide to obtain absolvence (or course, the priest was not sought out, but instead was the one to seek Candide). During Candide's recovery, a high-stakes game of cards, Candide finds it peculiar that he does not get any aces. All the people he meets (or, more accurately, who have sought to meet him) do nothing by swindle him out of his money (63).
When Candide makes a gift of three thousand piastres to Paquette, one of Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh's former maids, and her monk-lover, he asserts to Martin that the money will bring them happiness. Martin disagrees, asserting that the gift will make them only that much more unhappy (77). Although Martin does not explain this further, his reasoning is reasonably clear. With the money, they will buy only more into vice, and will ultimately squander the money. Even if they were to use it for legitimate means, it would soon run out, and they would again be left with nothing. Perhaps to be left with nothing is not a horrible fate, but it is worse if one was living the way one wanted to live up until the point in which he was returned to a state of owning nothing. A return to nothing from something is a much harder fall than a constant state of nothing. This debate over the ownership of material things and possession of money ties into The end.
Utopia, or El Dorado
Through several strokes of sheer luck and chance, Candide and Cacambo find
themselves in a land similar to Sir Thomas More's Utopia. This land
is known as El Dorado. The land of El Dorado is one of spiritual and
mental health, material wealth being held to mean nothing. The dirt of El
Dorado is composed of gold, and the play things of children are none other than
diamonds and jewels. Ruled by a benevolent and friendly king, the land of
El Dorado has but one religion, inhabitance who are all exceedingly friendly and
accepting, a lack of corruption, greed, crime, and greed, and no real
complaints. Their religion hasn't any priests or other religious figures,
since all citizens of El Dorado are considered to be qualified to be holy men in
their own right (49). Although this land may be described as perfect,
Cacambo and Candide decide that they would rather leave than make El Dorado
their home.
This calls into question the nature of travel. Voltaire writes, "Such is the desire to be always on the move, to be somebody, and to show off what you've seen on your travels [ . . . ]." As Cacambo puts it before they ride the river which first brought them to El Dorado, "If we don't find anything nice, at least we'll find something new" (44). Perhaps, Voltaire is hypothesizing, it is an innate human nature to want to constantly see and experience new things, the familiar becoming boring. Perhaps it is that Candide and Cacambo would have grown restless and bored in such a static and self-regulated society as that of El Dorado.
The end
At the very end of the book, Voltaire looks at and comments on how one may live
his life fully and contently in the world of today (or what was the world of
today at that time). When Candide, Pangloss, and Martin run into a
pleasant old man who seemed quite content with his life, while having only a
small bit of land which he cultivated with his children. According to the
old man, the hard work of cultivating the land kept him from the "three great
evils: boredom, vice, and need" (98). Only slightly previously,
Candide and Martin dined in the company of six deposed kings, all of whom were
now poor or penniless and quite unhappy (84-87). Each had a tale of woe
which plucked as Candide's heart strings. Of course, it was Martin who
pointed out that there are countless millions of people in the world as poorly
off or worse off than the deposed kings (89). It may be argued that the
only real tragedy is that these individuals ever had such lavish and undeserved
positions in society in the first place.
Armed with this information, the three set out back to their own lives, and form a consensus that their garden, too, must be cultivated as the old man's had been. In the very end, the simple and hard work of farming gave Candide and his companions the sense of fulfillment and happiness for which they had been yearning. The deposed kings, the snobbish and rich man, the cultured people of all of Europe, none of them were as satisfied with their lives as Candide and his companions. The erudite and rich were too accustomed and relied too heavily on their positions and possessions to be truly, and, most certainly, they could not be happy without their possessions or titles. Money and material wealth had left them feeling empty, since their existence was devoid of anything as meaningful as labor, which prevented those poor souls from figuratively living.