Article VI May 23, 2007

Philosophy disguised as novels, Part I: Candide

By the editor

Master Pangloss taught the metaphysico-theologo-cosmolonigology. He could prove to admiration that there is no effect without a cause; and, that in this best of all possible worlds, the Baron’s castle was the most magnificent of all castles, and My Lady the best of all possible baronesses.

“It is demonstrable,” said he, “that things cannot be otherwise than as they are; for as all things have been created for some end, they must necessarily be created for the best end. Observe, for instance, the nose is formed for spectacles, therefore we wear spectacles. The legs are visibly designed for stockings, accordingly we wear stockings. Stones were made to be hewn and to construct castles, therefore My Lord has a magnificent castle; for the greatest baron in the province ought to be the best lodged. Swine were intended to be eaten, therefore we eat pork all the year round: and they, who assert that everything is right, do not express themselves correctly; they should say that everything is best.”

This philosophy, expressed above by Master Pangloss, is that which Voltaire sets himself up to disprove. France of 1768 was a world of contrasting theories and beliefs, wherein writers (most notably Voltaire and Rousseau) used novels to advance their theories. The idea behind ‘whatever is is for the best’ can be expanded to mean since God is omnipotent, whatever ‘is’ must be for the best, as it is necessarily the will of the all-knowing, all-seeing, all powerful God (italics for emphasis). Voltaire interpreted ‘best’ in a very literal sense and very aptly demonstrates that it is not the ‘best’ for Candide.

The most memorable part of Candide for me, was very early on in the book, when Cunegund, the young daughter of a Baron stumbles upon Master Pangloss demonstrating his favourite theory of ‘cause and effect’ to a household maid in the field. This unexpected discovery causes her to unleash her knowledge on poor admiring Candide in the form of a kiss, and and the effect is that Candide is turned out of doors.

Despite this incident, Candide retains full faith in master Pangloss and that whatever ‘is’ is for the best. Voltaire sets out to show him and us how ridiculous a notion he finds this by bringing a world of misfortune down on both of them, and almost every other character in the book. Creating a panoramic of injustice and brutality, Voltaire displays the impractical side of this theory, which he portrays as pedantic.

Candide, Cunegund and Pangloss experience numerous separations and trials and tribulations. When at last the two lovers are permanently reunited, Candide finds Cunegund ugly and ill tempered, and marries her only out of spite towards her brother who forbid it.

Candide had, in truth, no great inclination to marry Miss Cunegund; but the extreme impertinence of the Baron determined him to conclude the match; and Cunegund pressed him so warmly, that he could not recant. He consulted Pangloss, Martin, and the faithful Cacambo. Pangloss composed a fine memorial, by which he proved that the Baron had no right over his sister; and that she might, according to all the laws of the Empire, marry Candide with the left hand. Martin concluded to throw the Baron into the sea; Cacambo decided that he must be delivered to the Turkish captain and sent to the galleys; after which he should be conveyed by the first ship to the Father General at Rome. This advice was found to be good; the old woman approved of it, and not a syllable was said to his sister; the business was executed for a little money; and they had the pleasure of tricking a Jesuit, and punishing the pride of a German baron.

Candide seems to better showcase Voltaire’s imagination and cynicism than his famed reasoning. Why, after all, was it necessary for him to attempt to rebuke this particular philosophy? He spends such an inordinate amount of time ornamenting his story, he seems to neglect the main business. Judging what is best is not an easy thing, and changes depending on ones perspective in the short or long run. After all ‘whatever is’ may indeed be for the best, and if not necessarily for Candide, then possibly for the world at large. For example, what is bad for Candide might still be good in a larger sense. Ie. if Candide is thrown overboard at sea (he wasn’t), it may be that had he lived he was destined to bring a newfound plague to Europe, and therefore it was best he be thrown overboard. Obviously this would not be the best for Candide, and Voltaire does not address the larger point.

Candide ends in the same way most books designed to offer wisdom on life, end. The characters decide to focus only on what is in their power, and contribute whatever skills they posses to the general good.

The little society, one and all, entered into this laudable design and set themselves to exert their different talents. The little piece of ground yielded them a plentiful crop. Cunegund indeed was very ugly, but she became an excellent hand at pastrywork: Pacquette embroidered; the old woman had the care of the linen. There was none, down to Brother Giroflee, but did some service; he was a very good carpenter, and became an honest man. Pangloss used now and then to say to Candide:

“There is a concatenation of all events in the best of possible worlds; for, in short, had you not been kicked out of a fine castle for the love of Miss Cunegund; had you not been put into the Inquisition; had you not traveled over America on foot; had you not run the Baron through the body; and had you not lost all your sheep, which you brought from the good country of El Dorado, you would not have been here to eat preserved citrons and pistachio nuts.”

“Excellently observed,” answered Candide; “but let us cultivate our garden.”

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Previous 4 Ramblings:

• Jane Austen vs Fanny Burney, Part I
• Jane Austen vs Fanny Burney, Part II
• Jane Austen vs Fanny Burney, Part III
• Pamela, Shamela and the Universities

See all Ramblings