Rameau's Nephew and First Satire (Oxford World's Classics) by Denis Diderot Read Free Book Online Page B

else are up to: good and bad, and nothing at all. Also I’ve felt hungry, and I’ve eaten, when I’ve had the chance; after eating, I’ve felt thirsty, and sometimes I’ve had a drink. Meanwhile, my beard’s grown; and when it’s grown, I’ve had it shaved.
    ME : That was a mistake. It’s the only thing you lack to make you a sage.
    HIM : Yes, indeed. My forehead’s high and furrowed; my eye full of passion; my nose hooked; my cheeks broad; my eyebrows black and bushy; my mouth well defined, with full lips; my chin square. If that enormous chin were covered with a long beard it would look very fine in bronze or marble, you know.
    ME : Alongside a Caesar, a Marcus Aurelius, a Socrates.
    HIM : No, I’d feel more at home between Diogenes and Phryne. I’m as shameless as the one and I’m a regular customer of the other.
    ME : And you’re still keeping well?
    HIM : Yes, generally speaking, although not so wonderful today.
    ME : Really? You’ve a paunch on you like Silenus’s; and your face…
    HIM : A face as fat as its posterior counterpart. That’s because the ill humour that’s shrivelling up my dear uncle seems to be fattening his dear nephew.
    ME : Speaking of the uncle, do you ever see him?
    HIM : Yes, in the street, in passing.
    ME : Doesn’t he help you out at all?
    HIM : If ever he helps anyone, it’s without being aware of it. In his own way he’s a philosopher; he doesn’t give a damn for the rest of the universe. His wife and daughter can go ahead and die whenever they like; as long as the parish bells, which will toll for them, continue to sound the twelfth and seventeenth intervals, all will be well. He’s fortunate in that way; and it’s what I value above all else in men of genius. They’re good for one thing only. Other than that, nothing. They don’t know what it means to be citizen, father, mother, brother, relative, friend. Just between you and me, one should imitate them in every way; but not wish the breed to be commonplace. We need men, but geniuses, no. No, my goodness, we don’t need them. It is they who change the face of the world; and, even in the most trifling things, stupidity is so universal and so powerful that it can’t be reformed without a great to-do. Part of their reform is carried out. The rest stays as before; result: two gospels, a two-coloured Harlequin costume. The wisdom of Rabelais’s monk is the true wisdom, for his own peace and that of others: do your duty, after a fashion; always speak well of the Prior; and let the world live as it pleases. * This works well, since the majority is content with it. If I knew history, I’d show you that evil has always come into our world through some man of genius. But I don’t know history, because I don’t know anything. Devil take me if I’ve ever learnt a thing—and if, because I’ve never learnt a thing, I’m any the worse off. I was dining one day as the guest of one of the King’s ministers, who’s as clever as they come; well, he proved to us, as clearly as two and two make four, that nothing is more useful to thecommon people than lies; nothing more harmful than the truth. I can’t quite remember his proofs; still, the upshot is obviously that men of genius are detestable, and that if, at birth, a child bore on its forehead the stamp of this dangerous gift of nature, it ought to be smothered, or flung into the river with the rubbish.
    ME : Yet those very people, who so hate genius, all consider themselves geniuses.
    HIM : I’m certain that deep down that’s how they see themselves, but they wouldn’t dare admit as much.
    ME : That’s out of modesty. So you’ve conceived a fierce loathing of genius?
    HIM : Which I’ll never get over.
    ME : But I remember a time when you despaired at being only an ordinary man. You’ll never be happy if you find both alternatives equally distressing. You ought to decide what you want, then stick to it. While I agree with you that geniuses are usually odd, or, as the