Arthur Rimbaud

[Amoxcalli]

Courtesy of wikipedia:

Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud (20 October 1854 ? 10 November 1891) was a French poet, born in Charleville, Ardennes. As part of the decadent movement, his influence on modern literature, music and art has been enduring and pervasive. He produced his best known works while still in his late teens--Victor Hugo described him at the time as "an infant Shakespeare"?and gave up creative writing altogether before he reached 21. He remained a prolific letter-writer all his life. Rimbaud was known to have been a French Libertine and a restless soul, travelling extensively on three continents before his death from cancer less than a month after his 37th birthday.

I must admit (in shame) I had only very vaguely heard of Arthur Rimbaud before I encountered him in Sartre's Le Mur, but he seems mightily interesting. I'm sure someone here has read him, what are your thoughts on this apparently exceptional talent?

[Daniel del Real]

I think he is an amazing poet with a very complex meaning in his poetry. So much analysis is needed to extract all the juice coming from his verses. I love the Drunken Boat, and the poems in A Season in Hell.
Of course when you read Rimbaud you cannot avoid to get into his life, very different and picturesque. Most of his writings were done when he was really young. His affairs with poet Paul Verlaine and his so much discussed travel to Africa where apparently he became a slave dealer makes him one of the most studied and commented XIX century writers.
No doubt he was a real genious and one of the most intriguing figures in world literature.

[Manuel76]

What a coincidence! just yesterday I was reading (once more) Une Saison enfer!. One of my favorite poets. It's true Daniel, the poems included in that work are very beautiful, but among his most difficult too.

There's a good link to some of his best poems:

RIMBAUD LE PO?TE. Textes. Commentaires. Mat?riaux pour lire Rimbaud

[waalkwriter]

A Season In Hell is fantastic, almost the entire thing can be quoted.

[Amoxcalli]

I've read Une saison en Enfer and Illuminations now, although admittedly in Dutch translation. I must admit it didn't do much for me when I was fully awake and concentrated, but his poetry was simply magical when I read it in a state somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

Especially his poem Angoisse (would this translate to Angst or Fear in English? Dutch uses the same word for both, so I can't tell from the translation) struck me. I now realise that I won't be able to say anything even remotely sensible about any of his poetry, but it is beautiful and that's quite enough for me.

[lionel]

Angoisse (would this translate to Angst or Fear in English? Dutch uses the same word for both, so I can't tell from the translation) struck me. I now realise that I won't be able to say anything even remotely sensible about any of his poetry, but it is beautiful and that's quite enough for me.

If that's enough for you, that should be enough period: we're talking about Rimbaud, and he was a beautiful and a brilliant writer. Although, as ever, as I am with every reason allergic to translation (especially of poetry, and especially of poets as amazing as Rimbaud), I have to add the rider: beware, because if you think this is beautiful, what would the real thing be like?

Angoisse is often translated as 'anguish', although 'angst' might be a good one too, but 'fear' I'd be wary of - it's too tepid.

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[titania7]

A Season In Hell is fantastic, almost the entire thing can be quoted.

Yes, it is wondrous, is it not?

~Alexis

"Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge." ~Arthur Rimbaud

[Amoxcalli]

If that's enough for you, that should be enough period: we're talking about Rimbaud, and he was a beautiful and a brilliant writer. Although, as ever, as I am with every reason allergic to translation (especially of poetry, and especially of poets as amazing as Rimbaud), I have to add the rider: beware, because if you think this is beautiful, what would the real thing be like?

Oh I completely agree. I'm still learning French and bought a bilingual copy of his collected poetry, so I had an idea of how the original looked like. Untranslated, all but the rhythm would have been lost on me though. The real thing must be fantastic.

[lionel]

Oh I completely agree. I'm still learning French and bought a bilingual copy of his collected poetry, so I had an idea of how the original looked like. Untranslated, all but the rhythm would have been lost on me though.

Thanks for agreeing, and keep the French up!

The real thing must be fantastic.

Uhmmmm!

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[Diotima]

The Impossible


By Arthur Rimbaud





Ah! My life as a child, the open road in every weather; I was unnaturally abstinent, more detached than the best of beggars, proud to have no country, no friends, what stupidity that was. - And only now I realize it!
- I was right to distrust old men who never lost a chance for a caress, parasites on the health and cleanliness of our women, today when women are so much a race apart from us.
I was right in everything I distrusted: because I am running away!
I am running away!
I'll explain.
Even yesterday, I kept sighing: "God! There are enough of us damned down here! I've done time enough already in their ranks! I know them all. We always recognize each other; we disgust each other. Charity is unheard of among us. Still, we're polite; our relations with the world are quite correct." Is that surprising? The world! Businessmen, and idiots! - there's no dishonor in being here. - But the company of the elect, how would they receive us? For there are surely people, happy people, the false elect, since we must be bold or humble to aproach them. These are the real elect. No saintly hypocrites, these!
Since I've got back two cents' worth of reason - how quickly it goes! - I can see that my troubles come from not realizing soon enough that this is the Western World. These Western swamps! Not that light has paled, form worn out, or movement been misguided... All right! Now my mind wants absolutely to take on itself all the cruel developments that mind had undergone since the Orient collapsed... My mind demands it!
... And that's the end of my two cents' worth of reason! The mind is in control, it insists that I remain in the West. It will have to be silenced if I expect it to end as I always wanted to.
I used to say, to hell with martyrs' palms, all beacons of art, the inventor's pride, the plunderer's frenzy; I expected to return to the Orient and to original, eternal wisdom. But this is evidently a dream of depraved laziness!
And yet I had no intention of trying to escape from modern suffering. I have no high regard for the bastard wisdom of the Koran. - But isn't there a very real torment in knowing that since the dawn of that scientific discovery, Christianity, Man has been making a fool of himself, proving what is obvious, puffing with pride as he repeats his proofs, and living on that alone! This is a subtle, stupid torment; and this is the source of my spiritual ramblings. Nature may well be bored with it all! Prudhomme was born with Christ.
Isn't it because we cultivate the fog! We swallow fever with our watery vegetables. And drunkenness! And tobacco! And ignorance! And blind faith! - Isn't this all a bit far from the thought, the wisdom of the Orient, the original fatherland? Why have a modern world, if such poisons are invented!
Priests and preachers will say: Of course. But you are really referring to Eden. There is nothing for you in the past hsitory of Oriental races.... True enough. It was Eden I meant! How can this purity of ancient races affect my dream?
Philosophers will say: the world has no ages. Humanity moves from place to place, that's all. You are a Western man, but quite free to live in your Orient, as old a one as you want, - and to live in it as you like. Don't be a defeatist. Philosophers, you are part and parcel of your Western world!
Careful, mind. Don't rush madly after salvation. Train yourself! - Ah! Science never goes fast enough for us!
- But I see that my mind is asleep.
If it stays wide awake from this moment on, we would soon reach the truth, which may even now surround us with its weeping angels!... - If it had been wide awake until this moment, I would have never given in to degenerate instincts, long ago!... - If it had always been wide awake, I would be floating in wisdom!...
O Purity! Purity!
In this moment of awakening, I had a vision of purity! Through the mind we go to God!
What a crippling misfortune!



- As translated by Paul Schmidt, and published in 1976 by Harper Colophon Books, Harper & Row.

[adaorardor]

Looking to read all of Rimbaud, anyone know which English translation to use? I know Beckett only translated Le bateau ivre, and whichever one I pick I'll probably use the French like a facing-page, but I'd still appreciate any recommendations as to which versions are good or are bad. Thanks!

[Mirabell]

Unsurprisingly, John Ashbery's translation of Illuminations seems to be excellent http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/12/bo...pagewanted=all


=)

[adaorardor]

Haha I see what you did there...

[Mirabell]

Haha I see what you did there...

I'm not sure I do

[adaorardor]

Same answer in 2 different places/fora, I thought it was funny

I'm not sure I do