Victor Hugo’s Châtiments (destined to become the favourite reading of Caserio, the assassin of Carnot) was the supreme cry of revolt of the Second Empire. In such lines as these Hugo proclaimed the anarchist ideal without, however, recognising it as such:—
“Les temps heureux luiront, non pour la seule France, Mais pour tous.... Les tyrans s’éteindront comme des météores.... Fêtes dans les cités, fêtes dans les campagnes!... Où donc est l’échafaud? Ce monstre a disparu.... Plus de soldats l’épée au poing, plus de frontières, Plus de fisc, plus de glaive ayant forme de croix.... Le saint labeur de tous se fond en harmonie.... Toute l’humanité dans sa splendide ampleur Sent le don que lui fait le moindre travailleur.... Radieux avenir! Essor universel! Epanouissement de l’homme sous le ciel!”
Eugène Vermesch was the fiercest, though by no means the greatest, poet of the Commune. Laurent Tailhade and Jean Richepin, among the living, have achieved renown as poets of revolt.
Richepin[124] is as complete a nihilist of the open, rollicking, devil-go-lucky order as Anatole France is of the subtle, Jehan Rictus of the plaintive, and Zo d’Axa of the fantastic orders. Like them, he commits himself to nothing and credits nothing, not even the faiths and formulas of revolution; and, like them, he is nevertheless a formidable revolutionist.
In the introduction to Les Blasphèmes he proclaims his intention of “scandalising the devout, the Deists, the sceptics, the materialists, the scientists, the worshippers of Reason, the prosperous and the unprosperous, in a word, the rout of fools and hypocrites who fancy it their duty to save Law, Property, the Family, Society, Morals, etc.” “In the defence of these conventions, of which I do not recognise the binding force,” he adds, “I shall hear all the geese of the Capital clack.”
Book X. of Les Blasphèmes is entitled “Dernières Idoles.” The “dernières idoles” are Nature, Reason, Progress. Richepin treats them in the most cavalier fashion:—
Nature:
“Farce amère!” “Carcasse qui n’a ni cœur, ni sang, ni lait!” “Toi qui fais des vivants pour amuser la Mort, Ton ensemble n’est rien qu’un mélange sans art.”
Reason:
“Impudente drôlesse dont l’homme se croit le valet!” “Coureuse de chimères, Faiseuse de vœux clandestins!” “Reine fanfaronne, Servante du corps qui t’exhale!”