Virtue E-Book

MARQUIS DE SADE

• Herausgeber: Hesperus Press Ltd.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2011

Seitenzahl: 181

Beschreibung

The Marquis De Sade's oft-overlooked novella Ernestine, or the Swedish Tale, published alongside the play he wrote after it, Count Oxtiern, or the Consequences of Libertinage, showcases his profound moral and social principles, and sets this elegant critique of class prejudice apart from being a mere pornographic episode.

Leseprobe

Hesperus Classics

Published by Hesperus Press Limited

19 Bulstrode Street, London wiu 2JN

www.hesperuspress.com

This translation first published by Hesperus Press Limited, 2011

Introduction and English language translation © David Carter, 2011

Designed and typeset by Fraser Muggeridge studio

Printed in Jordan byJordan National Press

ISBN: 978-1-84391-191-3

All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Ernestine: A Swedish Novella

Oxtiern, or The Miseries of Libertinism

Notes

INTRODUCTION

The name of the Marquis de Sade has become associated in most people’s minds with the worst excesses of sexual depravity combined with brutality that can be imagined. Ask someone to name, out of the blue, works by him, and most certainly the first to spring to mind are the novels 120 Days of Sodom and Justine. Those who have explored the writer’s output a little further would probably be able to mention Juliette and Philosophy in the Bedroom. In the course of the twentieth century, thanks very much to the labours of scholars such as Maurice Heine and Maurice Lever, biographers such as Gilbert Lely and Ronald Hayman, and prominent thinkers such as Simone de Beauvoir and Roland Barthes, the intellectual world, if not the general reading public, has gradually become aware that the Marquis de Sade produced a large body of writings, including essays, political pamphlets, novellas and plays. Many have disappeared, destroyed by overzealous defenders of morality or lost during the vicissitudes of de Sade’s reckless life, which was divided between attempts to put his own philosophy into practice and long periods of incarceration. Many of those works which have survived, however, reveal him to be a writer worthy of respect.

He was born in Paris in 1740 of an ancient Provençal noble family, brought up first by his uncle, the Abbé de Sade, himself a well-educated libertine with an extensive library, and later at a Jesuit college. He became a captain during the Seven Years War, and married Renée-Pélagie de Montreuil in 1763, but did not let this stop him from pursuing a life of extreme debauchery, for which he was thrown in prison within months of his marriage. The bane of his life was Renée-Pélagie’s mother, Madame de Montreuil, the mother-in-law from Hell,who had him pursued everywhere, determined to keep him shut away from society. She had at first been quite sympathetic to her charming young son-in-law, until, after his marriage, he seduced his wife’s younger sister. In 1772 he was condemned to death for his mistreatment, in the company of his valet, of a number of prostitutes in Marseilles. He was later to spend some time in the Bastille on the eve of the French Revolution, ending up finally in the hospital of Charenton, renowned for its original treatment of the insane. Here de Sade was allowed to mount productions of plays, using both inmates and professional actors, for the entertainment of specially invited guests from the highest levels of French society. This fact inspired the play by Peter Weiss, known by its short title of The Marat/Sade.

The love of theatre had been with de Sade throughout his life, since watching performances at his Jesuit college. He frequently staged productions of his own plays and those of others, with family and friends in the cast, in his château at Lacoste. And he constantly nurtured the hope of becoming renowned as a dramatist. Few ofthe plays have survived however and only one, Oxtiern, ou Les Malheurs du Libertinage, is available in the public domain. In the list ofhis works which he drew up in 1788 he refers to manuscript volumes of theatrical works, which contained thirty-five acts of various plays, a ballet, and a comic opera. There must have been seventeen, or perhaps eighteen plays written by him, according to how one categorises one early work. He attempted to get several of his plays produced by the leading theatres of the day, but only Oxtiern, which had its premiere on 22 October 1791, at the Théâtre Molière, could be said to have had reasonable success. Many others were accepted but never performed. The second performance of Oxtiern was on 4 November, but it was disrupted by a member of the audience, for reasons which are not clear, who shouted ‘Lower the curtain!’ In the confusion a stage hand lowered the curtain over halfway, whereupon other members of the audience called for it to be raised again, and someone, referring to the person who had initiated the disturbance, shouted ‘Throw him out!’ As a result de Sade postponed further performances and changed its title. The new title now focused on the ‘miseries’ (‘malheurs’) rather than the effects (‘effets’) of libertinism. It was eventually performed again eight years later at the Société Dramatique at Versailles, with de Sade himself playing the role of the innkeeper, Fabrice.

While it may be unfair to judge de Sade as a dramatist by his one available play, the existence of the novella on which he based the play does make it possible to assess his priorities in adapting a story for dramatic purposes. There are marked differences between the two.

The novella Ernestine belongs to a long tradition going back to Boccaccio of exemplary tales. De Sade himself despised the more moralising examples of the genre which had become popular in the earlier part ofhis own century, but his own stories respect (pay lip service to?) conventional codes of honour. Ernestine is an exceptionally beautiful young woman, daughter of Colonel Sanders, a good-hearted if somewhat naïve man, who has settled down in the commercial port of Norrkôping in Sweden. She has given her heart to young Herman, who works as treasurer for the ruthless business woman, Madame Scholtz. Count Oxtiern, on seeing Ernestine, is determined to seduce her, and plots together with Madame Scholtz, who also wants Herman to be her lover, to destroy Herman and have his way with the young beauty. The story is told within a framework by Falkeneim to a narrator, who is a well-travelled man fascinated by human psychology, in the context of a visit to one of the renowned mines at Falun, where Oxtiern has been condemned by the King to serve out his days. Without giving away the ending to the reader, it can be said that the story ends as a tragedy, in which the perpetrators of the crimes are punished and one, at least, redeemed. There are a few other minor characters but the focus is constantly on those central to the plot. If Oxtiern is dastardly and unprincipled, Ernestine is no angel of complete purity: she is clearly shown to have been tempted by the Count’s attentions, much to the annoyance of Herman. Despite its Swedish setting there is much of de Sade’s own personality and life traceable in the novella. The forceful and compelling logic of many of the arguments presented by Madame Scholtz, Oxtiern, Ernestine and Herman, is reminiscent of that employed in many of de Sade’s own letters: he spent much of his life trying to justify his actions and argue his way out of prison. The unruly passions of Oxtiern echo his own; Herman’s spirited defence of himself against Madame Scholtz is reminiscent ofhis own as a young man when challenged by his mother-in-law; and Madame Scholtz herself is uncannily like an incarnation of Madame de Montreuil, at least as perceived by de Sade.

It at first seems remarkable that de Sade made so many changes when he decided to adapt the story for the stage. Out goes Madame Scholtz completely, with Herman reduced to an offstage entity for most of the play. The other characters in the framework have disappeared completely, except that Colonel Sanders has been renamed ‘Falkenheim’ (the storyteller in the novella being ‘Falkeneim’ sic). The focus is instead on the central relationship between Oxtiern and Ernestine, with the Colonel arriving in the second halfofthe play, in time to take part in the denouement. An array of new minor characters have been introduced: several servants, an innkeeper, a maid, and a friend of Oxtiern. The whole of the main story has been transferred from various locations in Norrkoping and Stockholm, with framework events in Falun, to an inn with furnished apartments. The outcome (not to give too much away again) sees tragedy avoided, wickedness punished and virtue rewarded. The reason for such fundamental changes is not far to seek: in the differences between private and public morality at the time of the composition of the two works. Novellas were for private consumption: more could be implied and hinted at (as in the seduction scene in Ernestine). But plays had to abide by the strict conventions of public display: the act of seduction has already occurred before the start of the play. Many other changes however reveal de Sade’s sense ofwhat was dramatically viable: information should be conveyed naturally during the course of action and not simply narrated. While there are the occasional monologues, dialogue with servants, especially servants with conflicting views, makes for more interesting theatre. Servants, carrying out orders, also serve to propel the action forward. The first two of the three acts take place in the same large common room of the inn, with doors leading off to the various apartments, and the third act takes place in the garden of the inn, with evening light that gradually fades to the requisite darkness for the confusion of the duel scene. The architecture clearly allows for people to be in the building without others being aware of their presence. What is apparently only a small detail has also been changed: in Ernestine a garment crucial to the plot is red but in Oxtiern it is white. Is this an oversight? It could also be that de Sade, well versed in theatrical technique, realised that in the gloom prevailing in the final scenes, the colour white would be more visible to the audience. Finally, it should be pointed out that, in spite of the many changes, the play can be said to have realised at least some of the dramatic potential within the original novella: the novella consists after all of many extensive dialogues between the central characters, divided very much like scenes in a play, and de Sade’s text breaks into dialogue form on several occasions, with the names of the speakers indicated. There is thus clear evidence that the mind of a dramatist was at work in writing the novella.

It is interesting to note that in the performance of the play at Versailles de Sade chose to play the role of the innkeeper, Fabrice, and not that of the Count, who is more of a self-portrait. Fabrice behaves irreproachably throughout and it is only through his actions that the tragedy is avoided. It is difficult to resist the conclusion that de Sade, for whatever other reason he may have had, was also glad to avail himself of the opportunity ofimproving his public image.

The novella Ernestine was written while its author was still a prisoner in the Bastille, and appeared first in the collection Les Crimes de l’amour in 1800, prefaced by de Sade’s essay on novels, Idée sur les Romans. It was the only collection of his short fiction to appear in his lifetime, published in four volumes, with Ernestine in the third volume. The present translation is based on the text used in the edition of Les Crimes de l’amour, edited by Michel Delon, published by Gallimard, ‘Folio Classique’ in 1987. The play, Oxtiern, ou Les Malheurs du Libertinage, had been written during a period when he was not in prison, in the spring of 1791. It was first published by the bookseller, Blaizot, in Versailles, in ‘Year Eight’, by the revolutionary calendar (which puts it between September 23,1799, and September 22,1800!). The present translation is based on the version published by Editions du Palimugre, Paris, 1948.

Concerning the style of the present translations, it must be stressed that, in both novella and play, de Sade links many sentences together with commas and semi-colons in ways which do not correspond to modern English usage. For the sake of clarity, modern English usage has often had to take priority. His frequent use of sequences of dots has been standardised and included where the sense or dramatic effect requires it, but on some occasions omitted. The opening paragraph of Ernestine consists of one long convoluted and almost impenetrable sentence. It contains a series of long conditional clauses which are not resolved until near the end of the paragraph. To rewrite this in clear English would give a completely false impression ofde Sade’s style, and necessarily destroy the logic of his argument. For the sake of conveying a sense of the style therefore, the complex structure has been retained, and the rest made as clear as possible, although it may read rather awkwardly to modern ears. There are also many occasions when de Sade switches backwards and forwards between past and present tenses. One point ofthis is obviously to make the action more vivid. Where this does not create confusion or jar too unnaturally I have retained such switches as essential aspects ofhis style. I have endeavoured to lend a ‘period’ feel to the English, rather than risk it sounding too modern. I have also retained the title of’Madame’ for ‘Madame Scholtz’ simply because it sounds more suitably imperious to English ears than either ‘Mrs’ or the Swedish ‘Fru’. The footnotes indicated by asterisks in Ernestine are by de Sade; the endnotes are by the translator.

Readers wishing to discover more about the remarkable life of the Marquis de Sade are recommended to read a companion volume written by the present translator in the series Brief Lives: The Marquis de Sade, also published by Hesperus. A great debt of gratitude is owed to Philip and Bénédicte Morris, for helping me to clarify some obscurities in the original French, and to my editors for their usual painstaking work.

–David Carter, 2011

ErnestineA Swedish Novella

After visiting Italy, England and Russia few countries in Europe seemed as strange to me as Sweden. But… if my imagination was fired by a desire to see the famous countries from where, in former times, the likes of Alaric, Attila and Theodoric1 came - in other words all those heroes who, followed by a vast horde of soldiers, could size up the imperial eagle, which aspired to cover the world with its wings, and make the Romans tremble at the very gates of their capital… if, on the other hand, my soul burned with desire to fulfil its passion in the homeland of Gustavus Wasa, Christina and Charles XII,2 all three of them famous in very different ways no doubt, the first of these* having distinguished himself by his philosophy, rare and valuable in a sovereign, and by his admirable prudence, which led him to trample religious systems underfoot when they thwarted both the authority of the government to which they should be subject and the happiness of the people, which is the sole purpose of the law; the second, Christina, having distinguished herself by her generosity of spirit, which led her to prefer solitude and literature to the vain pomp of the throne; and the third, Charles XII, having distinguished himself by his heroic virtues, which earned him forever the nickname of Alexander… What I want to say is that if all these different things inspired me, with how much greater fervour would I not admire that wise, virtuous, sober and magnanimous people that might be described as being exemplary of the North!

It was with this intention that I left Paris on 20th July 1774, and, having passed through Holland, Westphalia and Denmark, arrived in Sweden towards the middle of the following year.

After a stay of three months in Stockholm, the first objects to arouse my curiosity were the famous mines, the descriptions of which I had read so often, and in which I imagined I might encounter some experiences similar to those the Abbé Prévost reports in the first volume of his anecdotes.3 I was successful in this respect, but how differently things turned out!

I went therefore first of all to Uppsala, situated on the river Fyris, which divides the city in two. For a long time the capital of Sweden, Uppsala is still today the most important city after Stockholm. Having stayed there for three weeks, I went to Falun,4 ancient birthplace of the Scythians,5 whose customs and dress the inhabitants of the capital city of Dalarna6 still preserve. On leaving Falun, I reached the mine at Taberg, one ofthe largest in Sweden.

These mines, for a long time the state’s greatest resource, soon declined into becoming a dependent property of the English, because of debts the owners incurred to that nation, which was always ready to help those it thought it might be able to swallow up one day, after having brought their business affairs into disarray and caused their power to wither by means ofusurious loans.

On my arrival at Taberg, my imagination grew active before I went down into the subterranean tunnels, where a few men’s pursuit of luxury and meanness is capable of engulfing so many others.

Having recently returned from Italy, I imagined that these quarries must resemble the catacombs of Rome or Naples. I was wrong: I was to find there, at a much greater depth, a less frightening solitude.

At Uppsala I had been provided with a well-educated and knowledgeable man of letters, to act as my guide. Fortunately for me, Falkeneim (that was his name) spoke both German and English: it was difficult to tell which he spoke better. These were the only northern tongues through which I could communicate with him. By means of the first of these languages, which each ofus preferred, we were able to converse on all manner of subjects, and it was an easy matter for me to learn from him the anecdote that I shall relate very shortly.

By means of a basket and a rope, a piece of machinery arranged in such a way that the journey can be made without the least danger, we arrived at the bottom of the mine, and we found ourselves at once at a depth of 780 feet7 from the surface of the earth. It was not without amazement that I saw there streets, houses, churches, inns, all kinds ofactivity and work, police and judges, everything in fact that the most civilised market town in Europe can offer.

After wandering round all these unusual dwellings we went into a tavern, where Falkeneim obtained from the host all that was necessary for us to refresh ourselves, quite a good beer, some dried fish, and a kind of Swedish bread, very commonly used in the countryside, made with the bark of fir and birch trees, mixed with some straw and a few wild roots and kneaded together with oat flour. Does one need anything more to satisfy real need? The philosopher who travels the world in order to learn must put up with all customs, all religions, all kinds of weather and climate, all beds and all kinds of food, and leave to the voluptuous, indolent man in the capital his prejudices… his luxury… that obscene luxury that, as it never contains any real needs, creates artificial ones every day at the expense of fortune and health.

We were at the end of our frugal meal when one of the workers in the mine, in jacket and breeches that were all blue, his head covered with a small blond wig of poor quality, came and greeted Falkeneim in Swedish. As my guide replied in German out of politeness towards me, the prisoner (for he was one) immediately conversed in that language. The poor man, seeing that this courtesy was solely for my benefit, and believing that he could recognise what country I was from, paid me a compliment in French, which he reeled off quite correctly, and then enquired of Falkeneim if there was any news in Stockholm. He named several persons at court, talked of the king, and all this with an ease and freedom of manner that made me regard him with greater attention. He asked Falkeneim if he did not think there might one day be some remission for him, at which my guide replied to him in a negative way, grasping his hand in distress. The prisoner immediately went away, with grief in his eyes, and without wanting to accept any of our dishes, however much we entreated him. A moment later he came back and asked Falkeneim if he would not mind taking a letter, which he would write hurriedly. My companion promised him everything he required and the prisoner went out.

As soon as he was outside I said to Falkeneim:

‘Who is that man?’

‘One of the foremost noblemen in Sweden,’ he replied.

‘You surprise me.’

‘He’s really happy to be here. This indulgence on the part of our sovereign could be compared to the generosity of Augustus towards Cinna.8 That man whom you have just seen is Count Oxtiern, one of the senators most opposed to the king in the revolution of 1772.* He has made himself, since everything has