“Transliterate mistranslations” of Arthur Rimbaud's Une Saison En Enfer | Boston Review
The following quiz will appeal to the true movie buff. . and Jack Twist develop a complex relationship starting in when the two are hired relationship between 19th-century poets Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud who. In , Arthur Rimbaud met Paul Verlaine, and if their friendship was controversial, their sexual relationship was downright scandalous. Rimbaud's drug taking. Baudelaire Rimbaud Verlaine: Selected Verse and Prose Poems on Amazon. com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers.
I, too, wanted to reach out to the older writers in New York and have them extend a welcoming hand, as Verlaine had welcomed an unknown Rimbaud and sent him the money for a train ticket to Paris. I, too, wanted to escape the ennui of my petit-bourgeois world, and to embrace bohemia. I, too, wanted to forego years of apprenticeship and shoot to the artistic top as a prodigy, not a drudge.
I, too, wanted to make men leave their wives and run off with me. Indeed, if White bears comparison with any figure in this tawdry tale, it is Verlaine — both are no longer teenagers, both are solidly respected artists, and both are clearly besotted with Arthur Rimbaud.
Into this snug, middle-class world Rimbaud entered like an invited catastrophe. He often quarreled and fought with friends, and his behavior toward his own kin was atrocious. His mother, for instance, who kept her miscarried fetuses preserved in jars of alcohol what to add? The last thing this man needed in his life was an imperious hayseed with a knack for indecency. Rimbaud flashed into prominence as a teenager, spewing half-formed verses in all directions, turning his jagged focus on such things as lice, shit, and masturbation.
White grew steadily in the regard of the literary public by producing calm, Jamesian works of increasing beauty. Rimbaud would not have considered him worth seducing; Verlaine would not have considered him worth shooting; fortunately for the modern reader, however, he is well worth reading.
The primary motive in enlisting a novelist to write a biography is to achieve the vividness so often missing from the writing of trained historians. Nouveau was an unstable man with a visionary turn of mind. In later years he met Verlaine, who converted him to Catholicism. The stink of feet in crowded theaters, the screech of street vendors, the cheekiness of beggars and mudlarks fishing for coins in the Thames, the rachitic thinness of so much of the population, the weird contrast of prudish laws and sluttish excess, the near universal public drunkenness, the huge parks where arrogant aristocrats paraded past beggars on horseback or in their carriages — all these contrasts and ghastly excesses fascinated the two Frenchmen, who walked for miles every day, observing the shape of the future, for they regarded London as both a warning and a promise of things to come.
White throughout acknowledges the previous books in whose long shadows he toils; he rightly praises such Rimbaud writers as Starkie and Robb, but he tells all the old stories with a clarity and vigor all his own, sifting through what we know in search of what we might infer.
Rimbaud saw himself as an archangel descended to earth to liberate Verlaine from his bourgeois temptations as a man and the tendencies toward prettiness in his poetry. It was Rimbaud who made Verlaine reread the technically brilliant poems of Musset and Leconte de Lisle. It was Rimbaud who convinced him to write in ten-syllable lines instead of the flowing, automatically eloquent twelve syllables of French tradition or the eight syllables of ballads. Equally remarkable is what the poem is not.
He has banished from it all of his earlier puerilities. He no longer is parodying other poets nor attacking the church in sacrilegious exaggeration nor defaming women through sexual innuendo.
“Transliterate mistranslations” of Arthur Rimbaud's Une Saison En Enfer
His love of the obscene and the revolting feces, filth, fleas, diarrhea has been tempered. Rimbaud's drug taking and generally unclean living eventually alienated everyone except Verlaine. To Verlaine London, Friday afternoon 4 July Come back, come back, my dear friend, my only friend, come back. I swear I shall be kind. If I was cross with you, it was a joke which I was obstinately determined to carry on; I repent of it more than can be said.
Come back, it will be quite forgotten. How terrible that you should have taken that joke seriously. For two days I have not stopped crying. Be brave, dear friend. All you have to do is make another journey.
We'll live here again, very brave and very patiently. It's for your good, besides. Come back, you'll find all your things here. I hope you realize now that there was nothing real in our argument. But you -- when I signalled to you to get off the boat -- why didn't you come? Have we lived together for two years to come to this?
What are you going to do?
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If you won't come here, would you like me to come and meet you where you are? Yes, I was in the wrong. Oh, you won't forget me, will you? No, you can't forget me. As for me, I still have you, here. Listen, answer your friend, must we not live together anymore? I can't stay here much longer.
Do not read this except with goodwill. Quick, tell me if I must come to you. Yours, all my life. Arthur Rimbaud Verlaine abandoned his wife and infant son, Georges, in Julyto wander with Arthur Rimbaud in northern France and Belgium and write "impressionist" sketches for his next collection, Romances sans paroles "Songs Without Words".