Candid Candide
Here you may openly and frankly discuss how this is the best of all possible worlds...
posted by Ms. Clapp @ 8:28 AM
19 comments
Here you may openly and frankly discuss how this is the best of all possible worlds...
posted by Ms. Clapp @ 8:28 AM
19 comments
19 Comments:
I don't really know how to start this -- first post! So much pressure! -- but I suppose I will stat with one of the first characters we meet in Candide: Dr. Pangloss.
(Oh, but before I go on, I think I should mention that I am not using the edition from the school. Instead, I am using a Modern Library Edition. Therefore, the chapter numbers are included in Roman numerals for your convenience.)
Pangloss is a pretty comical character. He is a philosopher in "metaphysico-theologo-cosmolo-nigology," is ridiculously broad (human existence, religion, the universe). To Voltaire, I think this may be suggestive of the immense knowledge that philosophers believe they possess. However, in their certainty that they know everything about everything, they actually know next to nothing. It's all rhetoric anyway. According to the novel, Pangloss has proof that this is the "best of all possible worlds" and that everything must be as it is because "everything is necessarily for the best end" (4, I). His unwaivering optimism is indicative of how little he actually knows of the world outside of Thunder-ten-tronckh. Ironically, once he leaves the castle, the disease he contracts from Paquette really takes its toll on his body. Truly the best of all possible situations.
Culturally, Voltaire may be warning against blind faith or utter silliness disguised as reason. Although certain theories and ideas may seem logical, we must rely on our own experiences and intellect to come to our own conclusions. Onviously, noses were not made expressly so men could wear spectacles and chocolate is not a justifiable end to Christopher Columbus bringing STDs to Europe, as Pangloss suggests. His lack of experience -- and perhaps the lack of experience of all philosophers, Voltaire suggests -- make his points completely irrelevent to every day life.
Okay.I've only read up to eight I believe(I'm very bad with roman numeral numbers.)But so far, I find this book really amusing.
Anyways, in response to Michelle's post, I agree that Voltaire is suggesting that philosophers believe they are all-knowing when in truth know nothing. In chapter VI, Pangloss argues with James the Antibaptist over bankrupticies and the corrupt nature that men have caused by saying that "individual misfortunes create general welfare, so that more individual misfortunes there are, the more all is well." He truly believed that someone's misfortune is only to aid the general welfare after being thrown out of Thunder-ten-tronckh, catching a disease, losing his eye, and one ear, he still believes that this is for "the best of all possible worlds." I don't see how any of that could be for the "best of all possible worlds."Pangloss has seen so much horror from the moment he left Thunder-ten-tronckh and yet he still believes that he is right and that he knows everything. I think because he has been confined in his little world and lacks that experience, like Michelle said, makes his knowledge lack the credibility because all the knowledge he thinks he has is about the world, is for the world in his head. I don't think he's all there.
Also, I found the part in Chapter V where Candide yells to Pangloss "Alas! Get me some wine and oil:I'm dying"(29)Pangloss completely ignores him and continues ranting about earthquakes until Candide loses consciousness. Then eventually he brings him water. Pangloss is constantly in his own philosophical world where he is completely oblivious to everything going on around him.
I really like the idea that Michelle has proposed, of Voltaire arguing against “blind faith” of his society. As we know, the mid/late 1700s was the Enlightenment, the era of reason and rationale, and people latched onto logic like it was the be-all-end-all, the panacea for all their woes. As Michelle suggested, Voltaire seems to be poking fun at the sort of mindlessness of the people at the time-- that they would believe something so utterly absurd all because it was proposed by a philosopher, someone who supposedly uses logic and reason to arrive at truths of the world. This idea of blind faith is seen when Lady Cunegonde walks by Dr. Pangloss and sees him “giving a lesson in experimental physics to her mother’s chambermaid” (18), which the reader knows to be some sort of sexual activity. However, because Pangloss is an “all-knowing” and respected philosopher, Lady Cunegonde elevates his actions in her mind to deem them “experimental physics,” i.e. something based on reason and logic and having the rightful cause and effect, rather than something shameful or lustful.
Candide is also obviously the one at whom much of Voltaire’s derision is directed: he is so naïve and quick to believe what others tell him. As just one of many examples of this, Candide allows himself to be convinced not to save the innocent James the Anabaptist, who had aided him when Candide was in desperate need, when James is tossed overboard by a sailor. Pangloss “prov[ed] to [Candide] that the Lisbon harbor was formed expressly for the Anabaptist to drown in” (28), and Candide blindly goes along with this warped logic, so trusting and stupid is he that he would be convinced to allow another person to die. As both Michelle and Sandra pointed out, Pangloss is also made to look ridiculous. He proposes inane ideas to back up his logic: for example, that there is a “vein of sulphur running underground from Lima to Lisbon” (30) just because both had recently experienced an earthquake. The humor of the situation is that Pangloss is so self-assured about everything that he says— “ ‘What do you mean, likely?’ retorted the philosopher. ‘I maintain that the fact is demonstrated’” (30)—when in fact his logic makes absolutely no sense. James is one of the only characters whose logic actually has real sense to it, though of course the irony of the situation is that his logic is not believed by the others but is rather disproved by the "superior" (but nonsensical) logic of Pangloss.
Furthermore, throughout the book as a whole, with the auto-da-fe, the thousands of floggings Candide received, and the brutal fates that Lady Cunegonde and her family met with, Voltaire seems to be highlighting some of the baser and more horrid and violent aspects of human nature that directly contradict the optimistic viewpoint proposed by Pangloss. James points out the corrupt nature of man by declaring that “God didn’t give [man] twenty-four pounders or bayonets, but they’ve made themselves bayonets and cannons with which to destroy each other” (27), to which Pangloss declares that “all that was indispensable” (27). Once again his argument is irrational, as clearly there is nothing to be gained from the situation.
While I believe the topics such as these that Michelle and Sandra touched are the most prominent aspects that Voltaire was making fun of, there are also more subtle instances of mocking. Voltaire, like Austen, satirizes some aspects of the superficiality of 18th century society. On the first page of the actual story, Voltaire describes a woman who would never marry Candide’s father because “he could prove only seventy-one generations of nobility” (17). Through this overstatement, Voltaire, much as Austen did, reflects the absurd degree to which this society is obsessed with money, status, and upward mobility in marriage. A person clearly had to have at least 100 generations of nobility before they could be deemed a desirable marriage partner. This same fawning obsequiousness directed toward the upper class and people with status is seen with the baron of Westphalia, who was looked up to merely by virtue of the fact that “his castle had a door and windows” (17), and with the fact that the people of Candide are so blinded by their reverence of a philosopher who, as Michelle says, seems to know everything because of his study of metaphysico-theologo-cosmonigology. Another aspect of this superficiality that is touched on, one which Austen also discussed, is the idea of many relationships not truly being based on love. They were based on, most important, money and convenience, though other superficial aspects like good looks were also important; love was the least important factor. Candide, for example, fancies himself very much in love with Lady Cunegonde, although there is nothing much more to the relationship than the fact that “he [finds] Lady Cunegonde extremely beautiful” (18). Their encounter behind the screen seemed more for lustful reasons that those based on love, in any case.
I wasn’t sure what page we were supposed to read up to, but I figured that if we were having three book club sessions like last time I would only need to read one third of it…
I agree with Nina's comment that Candide and Lady Cunegonde are drawn to each other through lust, not love. Lady Cunegonde is easily bought through appearance and convience. When taken in as a prisioner of war by the Burglar, after the raid at Thunder-ten-tronckh, she was attracted to this "handsome, well-built man wit soft, white skin."(35) Then goes on to allow herself to be woed by Don Issachar just because he was attracted to her only to be bought by The Grand Inquisitor. She does not know much about these men, and latches onto them because they can provide for her. Like Nina mentioned people are obssessed with money and upward mobility and Lady Cunegonde clearly moves up to a higher status through each man she meets.
That's it for now, I'm going to go read a little more andshall be back shortly
I want to start off by saying that it's sometimes difficult for me to pick up on the humor in books like these, but Candide is really just sinking in. I'm really enjoying this book so far.
This book is beyond absurd. Candide and Pangloss are a really funny pair because they are so incredibly far gone. They are thankful for the most unpleasant things, one of those being STDs, which Pangloss describes as a "present given to [Paquette]" (26). "The preserver of the universe [love]" (26) is obviously not doing its job in preserving. It, in fact, brought the all-knowing Pangloss a little surprise: an STD! It's so ironic that something so cherished by Pangloss gave him a fatal disease. He also 'reasons' that the raging sea was solely there for poor James the Anabaptist to drown in. Pangloss' logic for all the horrible things that have happened so far in the book are totally irrational and unsupported by any reasoning at all. The fact that Candide just nods and believes every word that comes out of Pangloss' mouth is a testament to Candide's lack of experience.
I would have assumed that Candide's experience with the Bulgars would have been enough for him to realize that this is certainly not the "best of all possible worlds," but clearly he went on with his wide-eyed innocence/ignorance like nothing ever happened. By having Candide miss the whole idea that one should experience things for themselves, Voltaire makes his message that much stronger. I really agree with Michelle's point that Voltaire is perhaps suggesting that one should create their own experiences in order to come to any conclusion or form an opinion on a matter.
Lastly, I want to pick up Grace's point on word choice. When reading things like "metaphysico-theologo-cosmonig-ology" and "Thunder-ten-tronckh," I can just hear a chuckle coming from Voltaire. He's so precise about the silliness of these titles and names that it makes his satire blatantly obvious as opposed to the more subtle satire in Pride and Prejudice.
Hey guys! Ok so far I agree with what eveyone has said. Pangloss is one of the most unusual characters that I have seen. Also I'd like to bring up this whole out doing everyone with personall sob stories. Of course Candide is the first to say what a horriable life I've had to go through. Then Pangloss comes out with his sob story of Bulgars and how they murdered all of the baron's family, including Candide's beloved Cunegonde. Then he finds out the Cunegonde is not really dead she was sold as a slave to many people. So then she gets a chance to tell her sob story. Granted these are horriable events that these people are forced to go through but it is still as if they are just trying to out do the other person's life story. I thought it was just a little weird. And since the next person to tell their story also wasy seems to have a worst one than the person before them Candide and his companions are commpelled to ask total strangers of their stories because it makes them put their onw life into perspective.
On a different note I have to say how wild and completely usually this book is! Can't wait for the discussion!
Hey Guys time for the Second Book Club Meet
This pertains to Chapter 10
Alright the paragraph on page 43 has to be one of the most strangest passages that I have ever come across. The first sentence right off the bat is in your face brutal reality of the actions of the captors of the old woman, as a young woman. Following that is the old woman's, rather graphic, decription of what her captors did next to her, her friends, and mother. First off of all things to be in amazement over but the speed at which the captors were able to take off their clothes?!?! Then she has reason to be suprisised at where the captors put their fingers but then demeaning it simply to a strange cermony but very thing seems strang where one first goes out of their own country. This does not happen (in reality for the most part) when one leaves there home country. Then continuing on with it is international law and that it has been praticed since before immemorable times - unreal - which this book is all the way through but that passage was just a peak of strang and out of this world porpotions. Oh well. Let's see what Voltaire has up his sleeve next.
Hey Guys,
Candide just has no luck what so ever. I'm, this time, talking about when he runs into Cunegonde's brother, on the other sid of the world, I might add. Candide and Cunegonde's brother go along having there conversation and Candide brings up the topic of his planning to marry Cunegonde and all hell breaks loose. Candide always seems like he is either killing someone, someone is trying to kill him, he thinks some one was kill or almost killed - I mean this man's life is a repeating patteren with the most twists and turn ever. He always has to make a quick get away and the options that he thought he had always end up gone. I fell sorry put I cannot help feeling that it is somewhat his fault at the same time. I am not sure - what do you guys think?
Kate, I agree that Candide gets himself into messes at times. He often seems really clueless and you can't help but feel sorry for him. I am starting to like his character more and more, and I guess I find him cute now rather than annoying...
Also, in these chapters, Voltaire continues to mock the ridiculousness of society, particularly the aristocracy and religious leaders. He highlights all that is hypocritical about those who claim to be very religious. For example, in Chapter 15, he illustrates a good-looking colonel who wins the favor of a priest, suggesting that the priest was homosexual, which was greatly looked down about by Christians at the time (and now too). Voltaire also draws a negative picture of religious leaders when the colonel, who became a priest, would not let him marry his sister despite his circumstances. Voltaire seems to look down upon all aspects of society and human nature in general and doesn’t seem to have any hope that it will get better anytime soon. I guess the whole “best of all worlds” deal from the beginning of the story is that, despite all of its ridiculousness, the castle was indeed the best of all worlds because life all over the world is equally or more miserable.
That's all for now...
Oh, poor Candide, he is so unlucky. He had gone through so much horror and pain that as he continues on his journey you can see him begin to stray away from what Pangloss has taught him. After he leaves Cunegonde he goes says that "he would have told us admirable things about the physical amd oral evils that cover the earth and the sea, and I would have felt strong enough to venture a few respectful objections."(50)He does, seem to be stuck in a pattern of unlucky events, but he has lucked out of several situations.I agree with Grace that life at the Castle is the best of all possible worlds.
Also, I adore the land of Eldorado. It is such an ideal society where people are not concerned about materialistic things. The fact that in their land they see the gold and rubies as useless rocks, is showing how in the typical society we live in, we care only about money. That is what our world revolves around. The contrast between the world Candide lives in and Eldorado shows how corrupt Candide's society is. Everyone in Eldorado is happy and there is a aura of pureness to the people. In their country, they are more concerned with treating people with kindness and respect. Candide commented that it was a land "unknown to the rest of the world and so differenct in every way from anything we've ever seen before?"(65)I want to live in Eldorado, it seems like such a carefree place.
And the story draws to a close! I really enjoyed Candide. I will miss the little scamp.
Anyway, I think that the story of Candide's life can be summed up as such: he "had been brought up never to judge anything for himself" (101). He follows the philosophies of Pangloss blindly, he never thinks about what he's doing before he does it (as when he mindlessly gives away diamonds to strangers or when he kills Cunegonde's brother), and his only motivating force is the search for Cunegonde -- a woman he pursues without really stopping to think about the nature of her hold over him.
Of course, by the end of the novel, the extent of Candide's love for Cunegonde is revealed. He only loved her for her beauty. When he is reunited with her in Constantinople, she is weathered and ugly. Candide pretty much forces himself to marry her only to spite her brother. It is somewhat noble that before he lays eyes on her -- and, I guess, beholds the horrible transformation she has undergone -- he says, "Ah, whether she's beautiful or ugly, I am an honorable man . . . and it is my duty to love her" (108). He really does intend to marry her regardless. Candide is a pretty decent person, I think. He tries his best.
Another point I wanted to discuss was the scene with Signor Pococurante, who is entirely cynical and criticizes all that Candide respected. As he rants on about the misery of observing a Raphael painting or the deplorable state of Milton's poetry, Candide takes a very interesting viewpoint. Pococurante must be a very noble person because everything is beneath him. His intelligence is so great that even the most brilliant of authors cannot impress any new knowledge upon it. Candide is far too naive to realize the folly that Voltaire is pointing out. A person who refuses to see any good will never be pleased. Voltaire also seems to be noting that a critic is always defensive because they see weakness in succumbing to something that would possibly be beneficial. It is as if by admitting that something positive can be taken away from these masters of the past, Pococurante is also admitting his own shortcomings. He could not possibly defend anyone in the manner of Cicero or weave together a tale like Homer.
Hey guys, I FINALLY found a way to re-access my password so that I could blog. Here are my two blogs that I had created for last book club session:
In the next section of the book, Voltaire goes on to depict many of the more abject characteristics human experience that directly counter the optimism instilled in Candide by Pangloss. As Kate describes, I think the experiences of the old woman really speak to this fact, especially because the ordeal she has undergone in her life was able to surpass in wretchedness the already horrible state of affairs of Cunegonde’s life: “[being] raped by two Bulgars, [being] stabbed in the belly twice, [seeing] two of your castles demolished…” (41). The old woman has been sold into slavery many times, seen her mother and the other captives with her slaughtered, caught the plague, had part of her backside cut off, and “grown old in poverty and shame” (49). It seems impossible that after hearing of such horrors, Candide could still be completely innocent and naïve about the true state of the world, and yet, directly afterward Candide declares that he would still have to “venture a few respectful objections” to proclamations about the “physical and moral evils that cover the earth” (50). As Antoine noted, Candide remains a fairly static character; despite seeing and hearing of proof time and time again about how prevalent human misfortune and suffering are, he nevertheless blindly persists in his beliefs. Despite his insistence on following logic and philosophy, he is ironically shut off from all reason. The declaration from the old lady, “…if you find a single [passenger] who hasn’t often cursed his life…you can throw me overboard headfirst” (49), also portrays the inevitable horrors that must befall every individual.
Another idea that seems to be an integral aspect of this book is that of the almost complete randomness of nature, which highlights, again, a departure from logic and reason. The characters end up all over the world, blown around by the winds of fate, forced to flee again and again, forced to different locations by others who may dictate their fate (for example, by selling them into slavery). Furthermore, most times that a point of truth has been established—such as that Cunegonde and her brother have died, cold, hard facts that would normally be irreversible—they have been proven wrong; in the aforementioned cases, both people end up being alive. Consequently, perhaps Voltaire is pointing out that there is no such thing as absolute truth or logic, that, no matter how much Candide tries to justify the events of the world using his warped logic, the world is simply filled with too much chaos and randomness that can be neither explained nor justified. The ludicrous events that occur in the story—such as, to name only a few, the women having monkeys as their lovers and the fact that the Oreillons wish to eat Candide and Cacambo—simply serve as exaggerations for the ridiculousness and misfortunes of our own existences.
Voltaire also continues to discuss how truly despicable human nature can be, which continues to defy Candide’s naïve optimism. For one, the people in the book seem to base their existence on lies and deceit—when Cunegonde comes across the man to whom she is able to relate her unfortunate story, he promises her to take her back to Italy, though “instead of taking [her] back to Italy, he took [her] to Algiers and sold [her] to the dey of the province” (47). It is with irony that the eunuch is described as “honest” (47), for he, like many of the other characters in the book—and, as it seems Voltaire is trying to point out, humans in general—will lie and manipulate others to advance their own situation, many times worsening that of others around them as a result. However, these people feel very little compassion for those to whom they are causing the suffering, and in fact, there is very little compassion felt throughout the book. Although Candide often says things like “It’s a great pity…that the wise Pangloss was hanged, contrary to custom, in an auto-da-fe” (50), he feels very little actual sadness about the fact that his friend is deceased; his statements are more matter-of-fact. Furthermore, after the old woman relates her tale, the others feel no true compassion for her; Cunegonde, on the other hand, is filled with the “respect due to a person of her rank and merit” (49), as though all the misfortunes she has undergone (coupled with her once high status) have earned her a higher position. These people seem to measure their worth by how much suffering they have undergone, which seems to be evident as each person tries to one-up the other by recounting their own more horrible experiences. The savagery of humans is underscored often, as “natural law teaches us to kill our neighbor” (61) Cacambo points out. It seems, in fact, that most of the characters in the book are governed by this natural law—many characters slaughter others for basically no reason throughout the book. Thus, no matter how civilized humans pretend to be, hiding behind the fact that they have many generations of nobility or “many names” like the governor, humans are still at heart savage beasts like the Oreillons. Even Candide, who is the “kindest man in the world…[has] already killed three men” (57), which only reinforces the idea of the inherent barbarity within all humans, regardless of how “kind” they are or think they are.
The land of Eldorado that Candide and Cacambo provides a perfect dichotomy with the world of wretchedness, sorrow, and misery from which the two men come: its pebbles and stones are the most brilliant jewels; each house is more extravagant than the last, the men and women are all beautiful; the inns don’t require payment because their purpose is to serve the interest of the people. Furthermore, there is no need for the citizens to pray because “[God’s] given [them] everything [they] need” (67), nor do they need monks to tell the people how to think because “[they] all agree with each other here” (67). Candide’s extreme incredulity at the fact that the people of Eldorado have “no monks who teach, argue, rule, plot, and burn people who don’t agree with them” (67) not only serves to render the European notions of religion, which involve monks doing such horrendous things, ridiculous, but also, in contrast, to highlight the much superior system of the people of Eldorado. Finally, there is no system of inherent inequality in this town. When Cacambo asks how he and Candide should greet the king of their land—if they should “lick the dust on the floor” (68)—he is told that it is customary for the people of the region to hug and kiss him instead. Again, not only does this make the European custom of utter servility to the king look absurd, as the Europeans would degrade themselves in such a way to lick dust off a floor to show respect, it also elevates the way of the Eldorado citizens. They, unlike the people of Candide’s world, actually show true love and respect for each other and are not barborous, instead living in a land in which all are free. It is a world like this, Voltaire argues, that we should live in. However, it also speaks to the warped notions that people have about always trying to better their own situation that they would actually wish to leave such an idyllic place, as Candide proposes leaving so that he can find Cunegonde and so that they may, with the luxurious possessions from Eldorado, return to Europe richer than any of the kings. People are simply so greedy by nature, Voltaire highlights, which is also reinforced by the notion that the Europeans “have an incredible lust for the pebbles and dirt of [Eldorado], and would kill every one of [the people of Eldorado] to get them” (67). The irony of this situation is that the Europeans are so obsessed with wealth that they would be willing to kill others—in large numbers, morever—in order to obtain what are merely pebbles in this land.
Furthermore, it is finally in this part of the novel that Candide, who is an exceptionally static character up until this point, begins to concede the fruitlessness of optimism, declaring that “it’s a mania for insisting that everything is right when everything is going wrong” (73). Up until now, Candide has been deluded by this mania, for despite the fact that the entire world was crumbling around him—many circumstances kept him from his beloved Cunegonde, people were being killed for no reason, etc., etc.—he still maintains an absurdly positive view of life. Now, having seen the terrible situation of the African man with only one hand and one leg, something penetrates through Candide’s outer layer of optimism-induced apathy toward suffering and misfortune, and he at last begins to notice some of the horrors of the world about which he had remained fairly naïve. Candide’s disgust with others due to their deceit and manipulation is also intensified after having been hoodwinked out of money by both the judge and the captain, and “the wickedness of men appeared to him in all its ugliness” (76), prompting Candide to search out the most miserable of men to join him on his voyage to Italy. The fact that so many men stepped forward as candidates for this journey also suggests a general discontent with the terrible ordeals of life faced by all, suffering to which Candide had almost refused to recognize in all its terrible glory before this point. However, despite this seeming turn-around in Candide, he still begins to turn back toward the teachings of Pangloss, still inclined to believe that “there is some good in the world,” to which Martin, the man accompanying him on the boat ride to Italy replies, “…but I haven’t seen it” (78). Martin’s viewpoint is more along the lines of Voltaire’s: a completely realistic acceptance of the faults of society. For some reason, deluded by his love for Cunegonde and the fact that he still has some wealth, Candide still is optimistic at heart, despite all that he has seen and acknowledged about suffering and the blackheartedness of men. Although he is perhaps less optimistic than before, there is something inside Candide that refuses to allow him to completely give up his positive view of the world. However, it is clear that Voltaire is still of a negative viewpoint, which is quite humorously depicted when Candide questions Martin if “men have always slaughtered each other as they do today, that they’ve always been liars, cheats, traitors, ingrates and thieves, weak, fickle, cowardly, envious, greedy, drunken, miserly, ambitious, bloodthirsty, slanderous, lecherous, fanatical, hypocritical, and foolish” (81). This one line, perhaps more than anything else, sums up all the most heinous characteristics of men and Voltaire’s pessimistic viewpoint toward them, and it is made more comical by the fact that there are so many of these characteristics. Martin replies to this question, “…if hawks have always had the same character, what makes you think men may have changed theirs?” (81), and this reinforces the idea Voltaire seems to be trying to get across—that from time immemorium, men have always had the most wicked of natures, and they are not bound to change any time soon.
I also found it humorous how Voltaire, who was from France, criticized his own country within the novel. Based on what we learned in Euro earlier on in the year, Voltaire was a great admirer of English institutions but condemned his own nation for its policies of royal absolutism, religious intolerance, and oppression of the right to free speech/thought. In the conversation between Candide and Martin about France, Martin criticizes the country because the most prevalent activities are “love-making, malicious gossip, and talking nonsense” (80), which seems to be a direct reproach from Voltaire about his nation. Furthermore, some of the aforementioned ideas have been expressed throughout the novel as well—the idea of the lack of freedom of expression was brought up at the auto-da-fe, when both Pangloss and Candide were taken away for punishment: “one for having spoke, the other for having listened with an air of approval” (31); the criticism of the lack of religious toleration was brought up, as I mentioned earlier, in the example of the monks who burned everyone with dissenting ideas.
The end! I really enjoyed reading this book; the adventures of Candide come to an end.
Okay, well Candide ended up with Lady Cunegonde as his wife but it wasn’t how he expected it to end up. Even though she has become ugly and lost all her beauty Candide married her. His shallowness and his love for her beauty was seen when he reunited with her and saw how hideous she looked. It was really unfortunate that no one told her she had become ugly and went around as if she looked as beautiful as ever. Cundgonde’s brother still didn’t approve of Candide marrying his sister and that was partially why Candide married her, even though he “had no desire to marry Cunegonde.” (116) Overall, I like Candide but he still annoys me sometimes when he talks about Pangloss’s theories of “the best of all possible worlds.” Fortunately, he isn’t accepting everything that he is told and questions things.
Volataire, like Nina mentions, does show his negative view of the world through Martin. Martin talks about how people in Paris appear to be always happy and laughing but they are “burning with rage at the same time.” (84) They complain while laughing and do horrible things with smiles on their faces. Martin also mentions that “every possible contradiction and inconsistency” can be found in “the government, law courts, and churches and entertainments of this odd nation.”(84) This supports Nina’s point that Voltaire is criticizing his country and considers it an odd nation.
Another things that caught my attention was when Candide met Count Pococurante in Venice and he talked about how uninterested he was in Art and literature. He once pretended to appreciate all of it but only because it was widely believed that all these things are wonderful and that everyone should enjoy it. The count in really critical of the literature and the way people judged art and books. Martin found his ideas very sensible but Candide didn’t think much of it because that’s just how he is.
Also, one last thing, it got me angry that Pangloss still keeps saying that things are for the best of all possible worlds after all he has gone through. He needs to just let that philosophy go, even if it’s not right for a philosopher to let his believes go.
Also, I knock at Michelle's comment on how despite how kind people appear to be there is still the natural barbaric traits that humans possess. Candide was a perfect example of that, he was such an innocent and kind man, but yet he had murdered so many people at ease. It's so easy for people to kill. So many people say things like I could never kill someone, but in reality it is completely possible. It's a scary thought, but it's true.
While ostensibly Candide’s great quest across the globe is intended to recover his lost love Cunegonde, I suppose the actual purpose is for self-knowledge: for Candide to discover if this is indeed “the best of all possible worlds.” Although he claims to be fairly unshaken in his belief, it seems as if Candide is always seeking reassurance, seeking out another person with wisdom—of the scholar at the Marquise’s house he says, “What a great man!…he’s another Pangloss!” (87)—to tell him if this is true. Candide finds it difficult to formulate an opinion for himself or to trust his own experiences; he always needs the advice and teachings of one supposedly above him, which could relate back Michelle’s original comment that philosophers believe that they and only they have all the knowledge of the universe, and hence everyone must listen to their wisdom. Candide is the lost soul searching for meaning in a crazy and bizarre world.
In the next section, Candide is once more surrounded by scenarios and opinions that serve to contradict his own optimistic opinion about the universe. When Pangloss continues to espouse the teachings of Pangloss, Martin rejoins, “Your hanged philosopher was an arrogant jester. Your shadows are actually horrible blemishes” (87). He, unlike Candide, can see right through to Pangloss’s infinite lack of wisdom and recognizes that all these things that Candide is merely brushing off—“I’ve seen worse,” says Candide about the misfortunes mentioned by the scholar (87)—are actually quite atrocious. Nevertheless, Candide’s reply to Martin’s comment—“The blemishes are made by men…They can’t avoid making them” (87)— also seems indicative of another viewpoint Voltiare supports, that men have so many inherent flaws that serve to propel the series of horrible and unending tragedies throughout the book. It’s not that Candide does not see that terrible events are occurring around him; as this quotation seems to indicate, he has accepted man’s flawed nature and hence the outcome of this nature. He does in fact question the world—“Oh, Pangloss! Pangloss! Oh, Martin! Martin! Oh, my dear Cunegonde! What kind of world is this?” (92)—but ultimately never completely rejects his original theory; Martin, meanwhile, continues to be the “anti-Candide,” who continues to express that the world is “insane and abominable” (92). Furthermore, Voltaire seems not only to be stressing the atrocious aspects of human nature but also the complete irrationality and lack of logic behind it: no matter where Martin and Candide go, such as when they leave France for England, they are faced with “another kind of madness” in a place where a war is fought “over a few acres of snow on the edge of Canada” (92).
I also feel that Voltaire’s opinion on the land of Eldorado is kind of a mesh of what Michelle and I said at the last book club meeting—I thought Eldorado was Voltaire’s manifestation of a perfect universe, Michelle felt that he was making fun of it as an ideal that simply could never be reached. Martin’s continual pessimism about the universe—and note how Martin is continually right when he makes pessimistic assertions about life, such as when he bet Candide that the monk and the girl were unhappy despite their outward façade of happiness, whereas Candide’s optimism is almost never backed up by anything substantial—proves to Candide that “there [is] little virtue or happiness in the world, except perhaps in Eldorado, where no one could go” (94). This indicates that Eldorado is indeed Voltaire’s conception of the perfect universe or what the world should be like, yet at the same time one “where no one could go” because the very flaws in human nature prevent there from being complete virtue or happiness in the world. Perhaps the reason why Voltaire has Cacambo and Candide leave Eldorado is to prove that humans have too many flaws to live in this perfect universe, which is proven by the fact that the two wish to leave partially due to greed—so they can be richer than all of Europe’s kings.
I believe that the idea of the complete randomness and the completely inexplicable nature of many aspects of the universe is reinforced by the return of Pangloss and Cunegonde’s brother, both of whom were supposed to be dead. That Candide’s explanation for the reason why he is still alive is completely illogical—having been improperly hanged and then sewed back up by a surgeon—also reflects this viewpoint. Once he comes in contact with Pangloss, Candide still desperately needs reinsurance from Candide that this is still “the best of all possible worlds,” as his confidence has been shaken and he is unable to think for himself--“Candide…had been brought up never to judge anything for himself” (101).—, and it is telling that the only reasons for which Pangloss continues to espouse his principle are that “[he’s] a philosopher, and it wouldn’t be proper for [him] to recant his beliefs…and since pre-established harmony is the most beautiful thing in the world” (114). Pangloss does not go back on his beliefs not because he truly believes in them, but because as a philosopher, having declared them once as absolute truth, he could not late retract them. Furthermore, he merely likes the idea of pre-established harmony, though that doesn’t mean it actually exists—it is merely some “beautiful” ideal that cannot be reached. I agree with Sandra that Pangloss should come to his senses and give up his philosophy. Candide still continues to support his optimistic viewpoint just because the supposedly all-knowing Pangloss, the man he reveres most in the world, continues to support it, no matter the terribly flawed reasoning behind it, reasoning that should have completely discredited Pangloss in Candide’s eyes. Candide is still, as of yet, completely dependent on Pangloss.
I also think that the idea Sandra brought up, of Candide’s reunion and subsequent marriage to his love not ending up as he had expected, is supposed to reflect that after all, the real purpose of Candide’s quest was self-knowledge, not the acquisition of a beautiful wife. He is actually punished by what is supposed to be the ultimate reward of reunion—not only is his beautiful Cunegonde now a visual horror (about which he had claimed not to care, but when he actually beholds her he “ha[s] no desire to marry Cunegonde” (116), but he also is surrounded by people who continuously are cursing their existences. With so much misery, how could all be for the best? Then, the arrival of the monk and Paquette “ma[kes] Candide waver more than ever” (117) in his optimistic views, as once more Martin is proved correct in his assessment of their misery. Voltaire seems ultimately to be saying that instead of trying to discover if this is the best of all possible worlds, people should just live their lives and accept their existences as they are. When the group goes to ask the Turkish dervish if he thinks this is the best of all possible worlds and the nature of cause and effect, they get the door slammed on their faces. After then encountering a man who finds happiness in doing something as simple as merely cultivating the land on his small estate with his daughters, Candide completely changes his viewpoint on life. While greed had somewhat motivated him before and he seemed to think that riches could bring him and others happiness—which was not the case, as when he gave the monk and Paquette money to make them happy but it made them more miserable—he now sees that riches are not so important and that the “good old man seems to have made himself a much better life than the six kings” (119). Finally, he comes to realize that philosophy is not the be-all-end-all—as Martin says, “Let’s work without theorizing…it’s the only way to make life bearable (120)—, and from this point on, whenever Pangloss tries to make some philosophical point or back up the fact that everything is for the best, rather than obsequiously agree with the philosopher as he had in the past, Candide merely replies, “…we must cultivate our garden” (120). By encountering the man living such a simple yet happy life, Candide is able to break the control Pangloss has held over him by living a similar lifestyle, thereby creating, if not the best of all possible worlds, at least one in which he is content to live. Though there is a “terrible amount of evil in the world” (118), as Candide had said previously, the only way to overcome this and live a content life is to stop contemplating the nature of the universe and trying to make sense of it (especially as all his experiences have proven there is very little logic governing the world and human behavior), but rather just, as the man does, live. This is the ultimate self-knowledge for which Candide has come on his journey.
Hello -
So How's about that Candide? He is just one of the strangest persons/characters that I have ever come across. So in chapter twenty five he is talking to that man, Signor Pococurante, and Candide is shocked at the fact that this man has an opinion. I found this, in reality, really strange for who does not have an opinion, but in Candide's case I suppose that it is just the Candide way. I could not help but keep laughing everytime that Signor Pococurante gave his opinion because Candide would become apuled and have to say something to contradict what it was that Signor Pococurante just said even though every time Signor Pococurante would just stick to his opinion. Another thing that was interesting was that Candide was suprised that Signor Pococurante had opinions on such topics, among other things, but how about the fact that Candide was having an opinion about Signor Pococurante having opinions. Found that odd - how about you guys, what did you think about that?
Hello again -
Alright so this chapter twenty six is really strange. Is it just me or does this chapter not even belong in this book? First off Candide meets Cacambo again but he is a slave and then Candide goes to eat dinner and the former knigs start reminising about the past and where did that come from? They are talking about their past but (and I could have just com[letely overlooked something) but it dose not even fit in with the story line and when the kings finish talking Candide was not even listing to a word that any of them said - what? This book has two parts to its theme - (1) really mest up opinions and (2) sob stories that seem to come from no where. So ya - any ideas?
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