Voltaire's CANDIDE: No Censorship Here

One of the wisest decisions I ever made as a teacher was to create an elective course in world literature. I had hated Silas Marner as a high school student and I hated it even more as a teacher. "If only I could teach a book with some real depth, something like Crime and Punishment," I thought. Thus, the idea was born. I had no textbook, no syllabus, no teaching aids. My goals were to give students background into literature I thought I should have been taught, to develop their crtical thinking skills, and to show them learning should be fun.

No one stood over me telling me what I could and could not do. Since I kept the books in my classroom and was the only teacher of World Literature, no one could censor any of my books by ripping out pages. The freedom was invigorating!

One of the books I most enjoyed teaching was Candide by Voltaire, the pen name of Francois Marie Arouet (1694-1778). Often called the Fountainhead of the Enlightenment and the intellectual spearhead of the French Revolution, Voltaire was twice thrown into the Bastille, and he lived in exile for many years. He hated fanaticism, superstition, intolerance, and bigotry, and he used his pen like a sword.

Candide is Voltaire's satire on Leibnitz's philosophy of optimism, the belief that this is 'the best of all possible worlds, in which everything that happens is for the best. At one point, Dr. Pangloss, Candide's optimistic teacher, explains to Candide that it was necessary for him to have V.D. Otherwise, we would not have discovered chocolate! After many more adventures and disasters Candide asks the doctor,

"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."

Voltaire thought such a philosophy could only lead to stagnation, and he found Leibnitz's language to be obtuse.

He did not claim to be a philosopher, but if he were labeled as such, his philosophy could be termed as one of common sense. He pressed for amelioration, making this world a better place by cultivating one's garden. At the end of Candide we hear, "Work keeps at bay three great evils - boredom, vice and need."

Voltaire ridicules many other ideas as well. In the above illustration he is poking fun at Rousseau's idea of the noble savage. When Candide visits the country of the Oreillons and sees monkeys biting the buttocks of young girls, he shoots and kills the monkeys, not realizing they are the lovers of the girls. Had it not been for Cacambo, the cannibalistic Oreillons would have dined on Candide and Cacambo.

The fanaticism and superstition of the Church are satiritized. After the Lisbon Earthquake (a real, contemporary event) the Inquisition holds a burning of heretics, and the ladies are served refreshments between the executions and the mass. In addition, Voltaire ridicules churchmen.. One of Cunegonde's lovers is the Grand Inquisitor. The Old Woman is the daughter of a pope. A friar robs Candide. The list goes on and on.

Thinking he has free will, Candide deserts the Bulgarian army. Upon being captured, he is given a choice - to receive twelve bullets or to be beaten by the regiment of 2,000 men thirty-six times.  This is free will?

The framework of Candide is a parody on the popular romantic adventure novel full of unbelievable happenings in strange lands. There are many recognition scenes usually told with overstatement and understatement. For example, when Candide encounters his beloved Cunegonde, he exclaims, "Then you were not raped? Your belly was not slit open!" She replies, "Oh yes, but those accidents are not always fatal!"

The Old Woman's story contains one of the funniest recognition stories. She awakens from a swoon to feel something pressing against her body. The good-looking white man who is bending over her sighs and mutters, "O che sciagura d'essere senza coglioni!"

This Italian phrase was not translated. After a little research, I found out it meant, "O what an affliction to be without testicles," but now I had a decision to make. How would I handle this? I decided openness was best. First, I waited to see whether anyone was curious enough to ask the meaning or whether they needed prodding. They needed prodding. "Does anyone know the translation of the Italian?" I would ask. No one ever did. "Would anyone like to know?" Of course, they nodded yes... if only to placate me. I would translate and watch to see who turned the reddest.  It became quite hilarious when a student, always female, asked, "What are testicles?"  More blushing. "Can anybody define "testicles"? More blushing. A long pause. Inevitably someone, always male, would blurt out, "Those are balls!"

A brief lesson on the role of eunuchs would ensue.  Eunuchs were musicians, doctors, guards of harems , court aides.  They played a major role in society.

I, of course, had achieved my goal of teaching a classic of World Literature - without censorship!