Showing posts with label charlie hebdo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label charlie hebdo. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Let's hear if from Voltaire

Voltaire was the pen name of François Marie Arouet, a French satirist, philosopher, historian, dramatist, and poet who lived between 1694 and 1778. His legendary wit and views on many topics, including organized religion, often got him in trouble. Reaction against his writings forced him to leave France for long periods, do a stint in the Bastille. But it never silenced his quill.
In the wake of the Charlie Hebdo massacre, French book buyers are turning to him, one of their grands philosophes for enlightenment. Publisher Gallimard has gone back to press printing more of his famous Treatise on Tolerance. Published in 1763, it is now a French Bestseller topping the bestseller lists. How many authors have that happen in their lifetime, much less more than two hundred years later?
In the treatise, Voltaire argues in favor of toleration of religious belief, while reserving the right to argue strenuously against it, and denouncing religious fanaticism of all stripes. “Tolerance has never provoked a civil war; intolerance has covered the Earth in carnage.”
He’s widely credited with the famous formulation, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
Here, in honor of Voltaire, liberty and the resilience of the French people – and right now, we all feel French – are five classic quotations from the classic writer:

1)      “Virtue debases itself in justifying itself.”
2)       “The secret of being a bore is to tell everything.”
3)      “He who is merely just is severe.”
4)      “It is better to risk saving a guilty person than to condemn an innocent one.”
5)      “Work keeps us from three great evils, boredom, vice, and poverty.


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Tuesday, January 13, 2015

le stylo mightier than the sword


Long before Iranian cartoonist Mahmoud Shokraiyeh was sentenced to 25 lashings for drawing a parliament member in a soccer jersey in 2012 or the cartoonists at Charlie Hebdo were gunned down and murdered this past week, a 19th-century caricaturist Honoré Daumier and his colleagues at the weekly Paris journal La Caricature endured prison sentences, fines, and litigation for their portraits of king Louis-Philippe I of France, who came to power after the Revolution of 1830. 
 In 19th century France Honoré Daumier mocked kings, emperors, politicians, ministers, their censorship of the press, their role in the inequalities of French society lawyers, doctors, blue stockings, art collectors and the good, self-satisfied bourgeois citizens of nineteenth-century Paris.
A critic called him 'Molière with a crayon'.
He was a caricaturist—a satirist in ink— as Henry James said in his essay on Daumier, which is a kind of “journalism made doubly vivid.” Of him Balzac said, “He's got Michelangelo in his system.” Degas declared him the equal of Delacroix. The young Rodin, when he saw Daumier’s statuette Ratapoil —a caricature of Louis Napoleon— said, “What a Sculptor!”

Daumier was born in 1808 in Marseilles, the third child and first son of Cécile-Catherine and Jean-Baptiste Daumier, a glazier. Daumier père died insane in 1851. Daumier had little formal education. “The streets of Paris,” Howard Vincent wrote, “were his school and college, his occupation and pastime. They were his career. They formed him, made him aware." In 1821, Daumier took a job as a clerk at a bookstore in the Palais-Royale, near two important printsellers and the Louvre. Here is the famous lithograph Gargantua which earned him a six month prison sentence.
 We see a bloated, pear-headed Louis-Philippe perched on a commode. The starving citizens of France struggle up a plank to deposit the country’s treasure in his gaping maw. Down below, ministers and favorites scurry about eagerly with the sundry writs, honors, and ribbons that the king obligingly excretes. In August, 1832, Daumier was arrested and incarcerated in Sainte-Pélagie prison: “a charming resort,” he wrote to a friend, “where not everyone enjoys himself.”
 In the last year of the Second Empire, Daumier was offered the Legion of Honor, which he refused from a government he detested. He died blind and poor in a house, the painter Courbet, bought for him secretly. But his message hasn't dimmed.
















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