French literature -- 19th century -- History and criticism; Symbolism in literature
"With slow steps the brother of the blood-sucker (Maldoror)
marched through the forest.... Then he cried: 'Man, when
you come upon a dead dog, pressed against a milldam so as
to prevent it from issuing, go not like the others, and
take with your hands the worms that flow from his swollen
belly, considering it with astonishment, opening a knife,
and then cutting a great number of them from the body, as
you repeat that you too will be no more than this dog. What
mystery seek you? Neither I nor the four fins of the sea
bear of the Northern Seas have succeeded in solving the
problem of life.... Who is this being, near the horizon,
that fearlessly approaches, with troubled oblique bounds?
And what majesty blended with serene gentleness! His gaze,
though kind, is piercing. His enormous eyelids play with
the breeze and appear alive. He is unknown to me. My body
trembles as he fixes his monstrous eyes on me. Something
like a dazzling aureole of light plays around him.... How
fair he is.... You should be powerful, for you have a
form more than human, sad as the universe, beautiful as
suicide.... How! ... it is you, toad!... great toad ...
unfortunate toad!... Pardon!... What do you on this earth
where are the accursed? But what have you done with your
viscous fetid pustules to have such a sweet air? I saw you
when you descended from above, poor toad! I was thinking
of infinity, and at the same time of my weakness....
Since then you have appeared to me monarch of the ponds
and marshes! Covered with a glory which belongs only to
God, you have departed thence, leaving me consoled, but
my staggering reason founders before such grandeur....
Fold your white wings and gaze not from on high with those
troubled eyes." The toad rests on its hind legs (which
resemble those of a man) and, while the slugs, woodles,
and snails flee at the sight of their mortal enemy, gives
utterance to those words: "Hearken, Maldoror. Notice my
figure, calm as a mirror.... I am but a simple dweller
of the reeds, 'tis true, but thanks to your own contact,
taking of good only what is in yourself, my reason has
grown and I can converse with you.... As for myself, I
should prefer to have protruding eyes, my body lacking feet
and hands, to have killed a man, than to be as you are. For
I hate you! Adieu, then, hope not to find again the toad in
your passage. You have been the cause of my death. I leave
for eternity, to implore pardon for you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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