Tuesday, September 14, 2004
"The Freest Spirit That Has Yet Existed" - Guillaume Apollinaire
"It has, moreover, been proven that horror, nastiness, and the frightful are what give pleasure when one fornicates. Beauty is a simple thing; ugliness is the exceptional thing. And firey imaginations, no doubt, always prefer the extraordinary thing to the simple thing."
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Marquis de Sade.
People, some of you will ask, who in the blardy world is this Marquis de Sade?
Born Donatien Alphonse François, Comte de Sade, this Marquis is an aristocrat who is a great author whose works I have came to admire. Before I go more into him and his books, below is a short excerpt of one of his more famous books: 120 Days of Sodom, Les 120 journées de Sodome ou l'école du libertinage.
What written below is 18sx, for those who can't stomach it, you can skip the following section.
It seemed as though, since the day I had so exactly executed Fournier's pious will, happiness smiled ever more warmly upon my house, said that distinguished whore. Never had I had so many wealthy acquaintances.
The Benedictine prior, among my most faithful clients, one day came to tell me that, having heard of a quite remarkable fantasy and having subsequently observed it performed by one of his friends who was wild about it, he had a powerful desire to enact it himself, and hence he asked me for a girl well fledged with hair. I gave him a big creature of twenty-eight years who had veritable thickets both under the arms and upon her mound. "Splendid," said the prior upon beholding the goods, "that's just what I need." And as he and I were very closely attached to each other, as we had taken many a gay tumble together, he made no objections when I requested leave to watch him at work. He had the girl undress and half recline upon a couch, her arms extended above her head, and, armed with a sharp pair of scissors he set to cropping the hear beneath her arms. Once he had clipped away every bit of it, he turned to her mound, and barbered it also, but so thoroughly that when he was done one would never have believed the least vestige of hair had ever grown on any of the areas he had worked over. The job done, he kissed the parts he'd shorn and spurted his fuck upon that hairless mound, in a perfect ecstasy over the fruit of his labor.
Another required a doubtless much more bizarre ceremony: I am thinking now of the Duc de Florville; I was advised to bring him one of the most beautiful women I could find. A manservant welcomed us at the Duc's mansion, and we entered by a side door.
"We will now prepare this attractive creature," the valet said to me; "for there are several adjustments to be made in order that she be in a state to amuse my Lord the Duc . . . come with me."
By way of detours and corridors equally somber and immense, we finally reached a lugubrious suite of rooms, lighted only by six tapers placed on the floor around a mattress covered with black satin; the entire room was hung in funereal stuffs, and the sight, as we entered, woke the worst apprehensions in us.
"Calm your fears," said our guide, "you will not suffer the least hurt; but be ready for anything," he added, speaking to the girl, "and above all see to it that you do everything I tell you."
He had her remove all her clothes, loosened her coiffure, and indicated she was to leave her hair, which was superb, to hang free. Next, he bade her lie down upon the mattress surrounded by tall candles, enjoined her to feign death and to be exceedingly careful, throughout the whole of the scene to follow, neither to stir nor breathe more deeply than she had to.
"For if unhappily my master, who is going to imagine you are really dead, perceives you are only pretending, he'll be furious, will leave you at once, and surely will not pay you a sou."
Directly he had placed the girl upon the pallet in the attitude of a corpse, he had her twist her mouth in such a way as to give the impression of pain, her eyes too were to suggest she had died in agony; he scattered her tresses over her naked breast, lay a dagger beside her, and near her heart smeared chicken's blood, painting a wound the size of one's hand.
"I repeat to you," he said to the girl, "be not afraid, you have nothing to say, nothing to do, you have simply to remain absolutely still and to draw your breath at the moments when you see he is farthest from you. And now, Madame," the valet said to me, "we may withdraw from the room. Come with me, please; that you not be worried about your girl, I am going to place you where you will be able to hear and watch the entire scene."
We quit the room, leaving the girl, who was not without her misgivings, but whom the manservant's speeches had reassured somewhat. He conducts me to a small chamber adjoining the apartment where the mystery is to be celebrated, and through a crack between two panels, over which the black material was hung, I could hear everything. To see was still easier, for the material was only crepe, I could distinguish objects on the other side quite as clearly as if I had been in the room itself.
The valet drew the cord that rang a bell, that was the signal, and a few minutes later we saw a tall, thin, wasted man of about sixty enter upon the stage. Beneath a loose-flowing dressing robe of India taffeta he was completely naked. He halted upon coming through the doorway; I had best tell you now that the Duc, supposing he was absolutely alone, had not the faintest idea his actions were being observed.
"Ah, what a beautiful corpse!" he exclaimed at once. "Death . . . 'tis beautiful to behold. . . . But, my God, what's this!" said he upon catching sight of the blood, the knife. "It must have been an assassin . . . only a moment ago . . . ah, Great God, how stiff he must be now, the person who did that."
And, frigging himself:
"How I would have loved to see him strike that blow!"
And fondling the corpse, moving his hand over its belly:
"Pregnant? . . . No, apparently not. What a pity."
And continuing to explore with his hands:
"Superb flesh! It's still warm . . . a lovely breast."
Wherewith he bent over her and kissed her mouth with incredible emotion:
"Still drooling," he said; "how I adore this saliva!"
And once again he drove his tongue almost into her gullet; no one could possibly have played the role more convincingly than did that girl, she lay stock-still, and whenever the Duc drew near she ceased entirely to breathe. Finally, he rolled her over upon her stomach:
"I must have a look at this lovely ass," he murmured.
And after having scanned it:
"Jesus Christ! What matchless buttocks!"
And then he opened them, kissed them, and we distinctly saw him place his tongue in that cunning little hole.
"Oh, upon my word!" he cried, sweating with admiration, "this is certainly one of the most superb corpses I have ever seen in my life; happy he who took this girl's life, oh, enviable person, what pleasure he must have known!"
The very idea made him discharge; he was lying beside her, squeezing her, his thighs glued against her buttocks, and he discharged upon her asshole, giving out unbelievable signs of pleasure, and, as he yielded his sperm, crying like a demon:
"Ah fuck, fuck, ah good God, if only I had killed her, if only I had been the one!"
Thus the operation ended, the libertine rose and disappeared; we entered the room to resurrect our brave little friend. She was exhausted, unable to budge: constraint, fright, everything had numbed her senses, she was about ready in all earnestness to become the character she had just personified so expertly. We departed with four louis the valet gave us; as you may well imagine, he doubtless surrendered no more than half of our pay.
So from the passage above, what do you think of his work? The above is actually a very mild part of the book. Notice the word mild. After reading through my collection of his books, I have chosen the mildest part to present it to you guys. From the above, you can about guess what this Marquis is.
No, he is not a necrophile.
Marquis de Sade. The words Sadism, Sadistic, Sadist all comes from his name. Sadism is defined as the deriving of sexual gratification or the tendency to derive sexual gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others. Ask anyone what SM is and some would say Station Master, most will say Slave Master or Sex Master. But SM actually stands for Sadism and Masochism.
Now many people have associated de Sade with pornography and sadism, but his works are more than that. Some of his works are philosophical, and very humorous to say the least.
Before I go into details about his books, let me give you a brief history of this man who is born in a palace and died in an insanity asylum.
Personal Details
Full name: Donatien Alphonse François, Comte de Sade
Sex: Male
Age: 74 at death
Full Address: La Conte, Southern Provence, France
Civil Status: Marquis
Marital Status: Married to Renée-Pélagie de Montreuil, with 3 children
Occupation: Author, Sadist
Nationality: French
D.O.Birth: June 2, 1740
D.O.Death: December 2, 1814
Family History
Father: Jean-Baptiste de Sade
Mother: Marie-Eléonore de Maillé
His family was ennobled in the 12th century and was a very powerful family in the southern region of Provence. He is the only surviving son and at the age of 4, he was sent into the care of his uncle, Abbe de sade, whose secual life was notoriously irregular (bet there was where he got his sex education). de Sade attended the Jesuit college of Louis Le Grand.
Social History
At the age of 14 to 26, he joined the army and fought in the 7 Years War.
He married in 1763 Renée-Pélagie de Montreuil, the daughter of a high-ranking bourgeois family. But then that was also when he started an affair with an actress and brought prostitutes back home.
In 1768, he became known to the public as what he was - a sadist. He had invited a prostitute by the name Rose Keller and had abused her. He also angered his mother-in-law by seducting his younger sister-in-law to an orgy at his palace, La Conte.
1772, he was finally arrested, but escaped to Italy where he was exiled from Paris. Between 1773 to 1777, he continued having his orgies at his palace. He had a harem of young girls as his sex slaves. Talk about playing Master and Puppets to the max.
He was finally arrested again for several charges of scandals and sexual crimes, and sent to round tour of 27 years in prisons, starting in the dungeon of Vincennes on February 13, 1777. Despite being imprisoned, he still kept up with the standards. "Send me a little prune-colored redingote, with suede vest and trousers, something fresh and light but most specifically not made out of linen; as for the other costume, make it Paris Mud in hue with a few silver trimmings, but definitely not silver braid." To overcome boredom, he started writing.
His last prison of that tour was the all-famous Bastille, Paris in 1784. It was there he started writing 120 Days in Sodom. Just before the famous storming of Bastille that marked the start of the French Revolution, he was sent to an insanity asylum. He was then released on April 2, 1970 and his wife demanded a divorce. Duh, even I will get a divorce if I knew my husband is so debaunched. The wonder is why she stayed with him so long.
He wrote an admiring eulogy for Jean-Paul Marat to secure his position as the secretary of his district in Paris. Then he resigned his posts, was accused of "moderatism" and imprisoned for over a year. That was how he managed to escape the guillotine that was busy eating up all the aristocrat. de Sade advocated a utopian form of socialism. In it he states that laws against theft are absurd: they protect the original thieves, the wealthy, against the poor who have no option left but theft. He also argues that the state has no right to outlaw murder, while at the same time ordering killings when executing prisoners or fighting wars. This guy is quite a debater too.
The funniest thing that he ever did was sending two books he wrote to Napoleon Bonaparte anonymously. But Napoleon certainly did not find it funny as he ordered the 'anonymous author' to be arrested. He was thrown back into the insanity asylum when his family pleaded him insane, which was of course bullshit.
At the age of 70, he started an affair with this 12-year-old girl that he met in the asylum, and the affair lasted 4 years before he died suddenly in 1814. One can only speculate how he died. Maybe from overexertion, hehehe... His will dictated that he be buried in an unmarked grave, allowed to grow wild, so that all trace of of my resting-place should disappear from the surface of the earth as I flatter myself that my memory will disappear from the minds of men.
His books.
Marquis de Sade's books range from being catalogues of sadism to deep philosophy. Better ppl knows his books to be sadistic, on how to torture young girls and boys, but in certain books, like one of his early books: Dialogue between a Priest and a Dying Man, where he spells out his philosophy of life. The book is about how a dying libertine convince the priest of the mistakes of a pious life, and the priest converted to atheism. It was really humourous.
Click for larger pictures.
The other book, The Misfortunes of Virtue, Les Infortunes de la vertu, is also more of a philosophical book than a book of pure hardcore porn. The book follows the sufferings of Justine, a young girl who suffers for her virtue, while her sister Juliette profits through debauchery. The plot concerns Justine, a young maiden who sets off, impecunious, to make her way in France. At every turn she is presented with vice and abuse, hidden under a virtuous mask that lures her. For example, she seeks refuge and confession in a monastery, but is forced to become a sex-slave to the monks, who subject her to countless orgies, rapes and other abuses.
These are, of course, described in true Sadean form. However, unlike some of his other works, the novel is not just a catalogue of sadism. Rather it purports to show, albeit in a hideously extreme way, how those who live a life of vice prosper, whilst the virtuous suffer. Nonetheless, Sade invites us to live virtuously in hope of heavenly reward.
May you...be persuaded that true happiness lies in virtue alone and that, though God allows goodness to be persecuted on earth, it is with no other end than to prepare us for a better reward in heaven.
See, he ain't that bad.
Then of course the sequel, or partner to the Misfortune of Virtues, Juliette, which tells the story of Juliette, Justine's debauched sister. Her numerous sexual adventures are described in minute detail, as are her equally numerous murders and other less pleasant debaucheries. The whole is punctuated with philosophical discussion regarding the nature of sex, God, and mankind. This is a very intense book, and one which has upset and offended many, many people since it was first published.
From start to finish, vice triumphs and virtue is humiliated, and only at the end is virtue raised to its rightful pinnacle; there will be no one who, on finishing this tale, will not detest the false triumph of crime and cherish the humiliations and misfortunes which virtue undergoes.
Philosophy in the Boudoir, another oh-so-interesting book. In the bedroom of a sequestered country house, a young virgin is ruthlessly schooled in the ways of sexual perversion, fornication, murder, incest and complete self-gratification which culminates with the final and most shocking act of liberation carried out on her own mother. It is written in dialogue style, so you had to use your imagination a bit. But it is really a good read, it sends your mind reeling.
But then comes this book of his, the first book I've read written from him. 120 Days in Sodom. It describes a wide variety of sexual perversions performed on a group of enslaved teenagers.
Four very wealthy perverts - the Duc De Blangis, his brother (known only as The Bishop), President Curval (a judge) and Durcet - kidnap eight boys and eight girls (all aged between 12 and 15) and take them to a huge castle in the middle of nowhere. The four men are also accompanied by their daughters, eight studs, four old women and four prostitutes. Over the course of several months, the prostitutes take their turns in telling their stories, explaining the activities of various clients, which in turn inspires the four anti-heroes to indulge in similar activities with their children and daughters.
It is a curiously well-planned novel, with a strict timetable. Five stories are told each day, and they are meant to start off reasonably mild before getting gradually worse until they reach the stage of rape, torture and sex-murders. The four perverts emulate these too, and in the final part of the novel, they massacre the kidnapped children and their own daughters in the most insanely cruel ways.
Only the first month is told in any detail. After that it becomes almost a transcipt, very brief and repetitive. There are often notes such as "you will give this in full detail" which is clearly De Sade writing to himself, indicating he was intending on re-writing the novel in full once he was released from the Bastille. He never did get a chance, and many readers of this work are often frustrated that it seems incomplete, although it must be remembered it is, for the most part, merely a draft.
This book is horrifying, but just so damn interesting! I couldn't put it down till I finish it. He listed 600 'passions' ranging from the mere shocking to murder, and OMG, they even sent my hair standing. This book is not for beginners and certainly not for young innocent ladies and gentlemen that reads this blog. The ending was horrible, but it certainly opened my eyes to many things.
A must read to all psychologist and criminologist.
I have just listed some of his more famous books. His short stories can be very funny like The Windbags of Provence, modern parables like Émilie de Tourville or caustic comments on Parisian society like The Confidence Men. Augustine de Villeblanche contains a very moving plea for tolerance of homosexuals. In Aline and Valcour, he contrasts a brutal African kingdom with a utopian island paradise.
Marquis de Sade is a really interesting man indeed. A man whose works I had come to admire and it does really make me think sometimes. I have been intrigued with him ever since I was introduced to the idea of BDSM, which of course is the acronym for Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, Sadism and Masochism. I find the idea of Sadism an interesting one, about how cruel people could be. With an utter lack of compassion, de Sade has shown us what the human mind is capable of in the depths of our depravity, and in doing so, sears our minds with the depth of his brilliance. For anything that can be concieved can be done.
Was he an evil genius? A man who carves up a prostitute for his own sexual gratification is evil whether she consented or not. His writings indicate he was a genius.
The philosophy of the Marquis de Sade was that Man was governed by his Nature. There was little he could do about it therefore he should simply enjoy life to the full, whatever his intrinsic nature dictates, to do otherwise is to deny ones self. Man can only exhibit and enjoy to the full his true nature when he is freed from all moral and social restraints. Quite rightly Sade dismissed morality as fashion, that it was Man's artificial laws that dictated what was right and wrong.
A world that followed Sade would be a world in which evil rules the land, where the rich and powerful can do as they please, free to steal, rape and murder, to satisfy their lust. All that would bar them would be a counter attack by their intended victims. A world of gruesome barbarity, brutality and cruelty, social Darwinism writ large, a world not very different from the world of today.
Roald Dahl, the famous writer of children's books, pointed out somewhere that children love the grotesque, the exaggerated, the monstrous, the ugly, the dirty; they find such things hilarious. It is the same here with Marquis de Sade. It is in all of us!
If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.
I think I have written enough about this Marquis. I've once written an article about him. I was introduced to him at the age of 16, having to read 120 Days of Sodom. And I've done my homework in doing research on him. One friend once said that if I had put in that much effort I put to read up on him, I would have easily scored 10As in SPM, but that remains to be seen.
I've lingered long on this blog, sorry to bother you, but I just have to introduce this wonderful author to the world. So before I sign off, I just want to clear something up with my other friends who shares the same passion as me.
Richard, Raymond and Ben Seng, you guys complain that de Sade's writing is repetitive, but let me ask you, but what could be more repetitive than the physical motions of sexual intercourse?
With that, I close this blog.
We also know that what you see with your eyes isn't necessarily the
truth... Won't you come join me on the journey for the truth?
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