Gazpacho Guy meets the Marquis

Gazpacho Guy meets the Marquis de Sade

By John Taylor; 24 January, 2006

I just finished "Introducing Marquis de Sade," not exactly a writer
that I would stumble over in the normal course of events, but
illuminating nonetheless about the dark side. Sade has a horrid
reputation and face it, he deserved every bit of it. As an aristocrat
he learned early to indulge his appetites, taking full advantage of
the rampant inequality, sexual and economic, in pre-revolutionary
France. He went to a Jesuit school that introduced him to theatre and
corporal if not sexual abuse. He entered the cavalry at 14, writing
later, "I am sure I gave a good account of myself. The natural
impetuosity of my character ... served to enhance that unflinching
savagery men call courage." Then in private life he carried on until
he was tossed into prison. There, he read diligently for years and
entered the lonely apprenticeship of a writer, an apologist destined
to carve out the rationalizations of license.

Distressingly, today Sade's libertinism is mainstream,
indistinguishable from normality, even in language. If you call
someone a libertine, most will say, "What does that old fashioned
expression mean anyway? Do you mean sexually active? A sex addict? A
sexual athlete? An abuser? A rapist?" There is no name to distinguish
such fellows anymore. Philosophically, Sade ended up an atheist and a
"Manichaean." As what was then called a "libertine", his thought
anticipated what is now called libertarian thought and politics. Both
physically and emotionally, Sade was a prisoner to the end of his
days, an unapologetic thrall to appetite and ideas. He was living
proof of the paradox that to give oneself up to complete, uninhibited
freedom is not liberation but self-enslavement. Most interesting is
Sade's espousal of extreme dualism, which the "Introducing..." book I
think incorrectly labels "Manichean." He holds that the natural way is
for life to fade into death and death into life, so why not go with
the flow? At the other end of the spectrum is the God, family and
family values. Then, as now, it was the libertine versus the family.
The libertine feeds upon the family, which supplies him with a steady
supply of daughters and sons upon which to sate his desires. Then, as
now, the family had few defenders.

Sade was released from prison by the French revolution and for a long
time was in favor with the rebellious leadership of the Revolution. He
rose high and fast in the new tyranny and, ignoring his being an
aristocrat, his ideas were startlingly close to theirs, especially
when it came to the complete rejection of Christianity. At the same
time, like the Scarlet Pimpernel, Sade surreptitiously spirited away
from the impending guillotine many fellow aristocrats. Among them were
his former parents-in-law, the people who had conspired to have him
committed for insanity for twelve years. He forgave them such a wrong
and actually saved their lives.

True, that traumatic experience in prison had made him what he was and
he may have felt that gratitude rather than spite was in order. But
still, I find this much more disturbing than his worst excesses, real
or imagined. How could one on the opposite end of the ethical spectrum
perform such a good deed? How many believers in God would be so
forgiving of someone who wronged them so sorely? Would I? I can only
suppose that de Sade knew what shocks people, and he must have been
aware that repeating this anecdote would surely do the trick. After
all in his novels he often has his actors place the holy wafer where
the sun does not shine, not because he cared himself about sacrilege,
he was an atheist, but because he knew it would shock most of his
readers. Now in Quebec these communion wafers have lost their
religious cachet apparently, since they are sold in stores and have
become a popular, low fat snack food. But the idea of a baddy doing a
far better thing than most goodies would do, that is still just as
shocking now as it was then.

This is why I feel uncomfortable around discussions about ethics. What
is the point of talking about good deeds or bad, trying carefully to
fit them into a consistent philosophy when most people, as soon as the
chips are down, act so unpredictably? A libertine with the worst
imaginable ideas, like Sade, can forgive the unforgivable while a
person with all the right opinions can, in the pressure of the moment,
act despicably. If this is so common, why even bother to open our
mouths about right and wrong? Why not let computers make our moral
choices for us? Real moral choices, the ones we work at every day, are
not subject to one or two momentary choices, they are built up, like a
family mansion, brick by brick, moment by moment over a lifetime. As
Goethe said, "Nothing that makes us happy is illusory." And no snap
decision is enough to make us happy or unhappy.

--
John Taylor

badijet@gmail.com