第十章 看巴黎，看世人
再概括一句：今日巴黎的顽童，犹如昔日罗马的希腊少年，是额上刻着旧世界皱纹的稚子。
顽童既是民族的恩典，亦是民族的疾患——一种必须治愈的疾患。如何治愈？唯有光明。
光明使人健康。
光明点燃一切。
一切慷慨的社会光芒，皆源于科学、文学、艺术与教育。造就人，造就人。给他们光明，他们才能温暖你。迟早，普及教育的辉煌问题会以绝对真理不可抗拒的权威呈现；到那时，受法兰西思想监督的统治者们必须做出选择：法兰西的儿童，或是巴黎的顽童；光明中的火焰，或黑暗中的鬼火。
顽童展现巴黎，巴黎展现世界。
因为巴黎是总集。巴黎是人类的天花板。这座奇迹之城，是已逝风俗与现存风俗的缩影。见巴黎者，自以为见历史之底，其间闪现着天空与星群。巴黎有一座城楼——市政厅，一座帕特农——圣母院，一座阿文廷山——圣安东尼郊区，一座驴场——索邦，一座万神殿——先贤祠，一条圣道——意大利大道，一座风神之殿——舆论；它以嘲讽取代杰莫尼埃阶梯。它的"花花公子"唤作"纨绔子"，它的"台伯河对岸人"是郊区汉子，它的"脚夫"是市场搬运工，它的"流浪汉"是扒手，它的"伦敦佬"是根特人。世上一切存在之物，巴黎皆有。杜马赛的鱼贩能回击欧里庇得斯的菜贩，韦亚努斯的铁饼在福里奥佐身上重生，走钢丝的塞拉蓬提戈努斯·米勒斯能与掷弹手瓦德邦克尔挽臂同行，旧货商达马西普斯会欣悦于古董商之中，万森纳能像阿戈拉监禁狄德罗般抓住苏格拉底，格里莫·德·拉雷尼耶尔发明了填馅烤牛肉，正如库尔提卢斯发明了烤刺猬，我们看见普劳图斯笔下的秋千架重现于星形广场拱门下，阿普列乌斯遇到的珀西鲁斯吞剑者正是新桥上的吞剑艺人，拉莫的侄儿与寄生者库尔库里奥成双配对，厄尔加西鲁斯可通过德格勒弗耶的引见结识康巴塞雷斯；罗马四大纨绔——阿尔凯西马库斯、费德罗穆斯、狄亚波鲁斯、阿吉里普斯——坐着拉巴图的驿车从库尔蒂耶驰来；奥鲁斯·格利乌斯在孔格里奥面前驻足的时间，不会超过夏尔·诺迪耶在潘趣内罗面前的停留；玛托并非母虎，帕达里斯卡亦非恶龙；弄臣潘托拉布斯在英吉利咖啡馆嘲笑浪荡子诺门塔努斯，赫尔莫格内斯是香榭丽舍的男高音，乞丐特拉丘斯穿着波贝什的衣裳围着他募捐；在杜伊勒里宫揪住你衣扣的讨厌鬼，会让你在两千年后重复泰斯普里昂的诘问："何人抓住我这匆忙行路者的披风？"苏雷讷的酒是阿尔巴酒的仿作，德索吉埃的红酒缘堪比巴拉特罗的利刃，拉雪兹神父公墓在夜雨中的微光与埃斯奎利亚山无异，以五年为期购得的穷人之墓，确乎等同于奴隶的蜂巢棺。
寻找巴黎所无之物。特罗福尼乌斯的水缸里没有什么是梅斯默的浴缸中没有的；埃尔加菲拉斯在卡廖斯特罗身上重生；婆罗门瓦桑帕塔化身于圣日耳曼伯爵；圣梅达尔墓园制造的奇迹，与大马士革的乌穆米耶清真寺同样灵验。
巴黎有伊索·马耶，有卡尼狄亚·勒诺芒小姐。它像德尔斐面对幻象的闪电般战栗；它让桌子旋转，如同多多纳让铜盆转动。它将女工置于宝座，正如罗马将妓女置于宝座；总体而言，若路易十五劣于克劳狄安，杜巴里夫人则优于梅萨利娜。巴黎以一种前所未有的类型，将希腊的裸体、希伯来的溃疡与加斯科涅的俏皮话融为一体，是我们曾擦肩而过的存在。它糅合了第欧根尼、约伯与丑角，用旧《立宪报》装扮幽灵，造就了肖德吕克·杜克洛。
尽管普鲁塔克说："暴君永不衰老"，罗马在苏拉与图密善治下同样逆来顺受，甘愿往酒里掺水。第伯河便是忘川，若瓦鲁斯·维比斯库斯的赞辞可信："我们有第伯河对抗格拉古兄弟，饮第伯河即忘却叛乱"。巴黎每日饮百万升水，但这不妨碍它偶尔敲响警钟，鸣响警钟。
以此为例，巴黎是可亲的。它王者般包容一切；对它的维纳斯不甚苛求；它的卡利皮戈是霍屯督人；只要能引人发笑，它便宽恕；丑陋令它振奋，畸形令它发笑，恶习令它愉悦；古怪者可以尽情古怪；甚至伪善——这极致的犬儒——也不令它生厌；它如此文雅，以致面对巴齐尔不捂鼻子，见到答尔丢夫的祈祷也不比贺拉斯被普里阿普斯的"嗝声"冒犯得更厉害。巴黎的面容不缺天下人脸的任一特征。马比勒舞会并非雅尼库鲁姆的波吕谟尼亚之舞，但那里的女装商贩用眼神吞噬洛蕾特，恰如妓女斯塔菲拉窥伺处女普拉内西乌姆。战斗栅栏绝非斗兽场，但那里的人们同样凶残，仿佛凯撒在场注视。叙利亚女店主比萨盖大妈更优雅，但若维吉尔常去罗马酒馆，安格尔、巴尔扎克与查理则坐过巴黎小酒馆的桌前。巴黎主宰着世界。天才在此闪耀，红尾羽在此繁盛。阿多奈乘着十二轮雷电之车驶过；西勒诺斯骑着毛驴进入。将兰波诺视为西勒诺斯。
巴黎是宇宙的同义词，巴黎是雅典、叙巴里斯、耶路撒冷、庞坦。所有文明在此浓缩，所有野蛮亦然。若没有断头台，巴黎会深深遗憾。
格雷沃广场的一角，是件好事。若没有这味佐料，那永恒的盛宴算什么？我们的法律安排明智，正因如此，这刀刃在这忏悔星期二滴血。
To sum it all up once more, the Paris gamin of to-day, like the
_græculus_ of Rome in days gone by, is the infant populace with the
wrinkle of the old world on his brow.
The gamin is a grace to the nation, and at the same time a disease; a
disease which must be cured, how? By light.
Light renders healthy.
Light kindles.
All generous social irradiations spring from science, letters, arts,
education. Make men, make men. Give them light that they may warm you.
Sooner or later the splendid question of universal education will
present itself with the irresistible authority of the absolute truth;
and then, those who govern under the superintendence of the French idea
will have to make this choice; the children of France or the gamins of
Paris; flames in the light or will-o’-the-wisps in the gloom.
The gamin expresses Paris, and Paris expresses the world.
For Paris is a total. Paris is the ceiling of the human race. The whole
of this prodigious city is a foreshortening of dead manners and living
manners. He who sees Paris thinks he sees the bottom of all history
with heaven and constellations in the intervals. Paris has a capital,
the Town-Hall, a Parthenon, Notre-Dame, a Mount Aventine, the Faubourg
Saint-Antoine, an Asinarium, the Sorbonne, a Pantheon, the Pantheon, a
Via Sacra, the Boulevard des Italiens, a temple of the winds, opinion;
and it replaces the Gemoniæ by ridicule. Its _majo_ is called “faraud,”
its Transteverin is the man of the faubourgs, its _hammal_ is the
market-porter, its lazzarone is the pègre, its cockney is the native of
Ghent. Everything that exists elsewhere exists at Paris. The fishwoman
of Dumarsais can retort on the herb-seller of Euripides, the discobols
Vejanus lives again in the Forioso, the tight-rope dancer.
Therapontigonus Miles could walk arm in arm with Vadeboncœur the
grenadier, Damasippus the second-hand dealer would be happy among
bric-à-brac merchants, Vincennes could grasp Socrates in its fist as
just as Agora could imprison Diderot, Grimod de la Reynière discovered
larded roast beef, as Curtillus invented roast hedgehog, we see the
trapeze which figures in Plautus reappear under the vault of the Arc of
l’Etoile, the sword-eater of Pœcilus encountered by Apuleius is a
sword-swallower on the Pont-Neuf, the nephew of Rameau and Curculio the
parasite make a pair, Ergasilus could get himself presented to
Cambacères by d’Aigrefeuille; the four dandies of Rome: Alcesimarchus,
Phœdromus, Diabolus, and Argyrippus, descend from Courtille in
Labatut’s posting-chaise; Aulus Gellius would halt no longer in front
of Congrio than would Charles Nodier in front of Punchinello; Marto is
not a tigress, but Pardalisca was not a dragon; Pantolabus the wag
jeers in the Café Anglais at Nomentanus the fast liver, Hermogenus is a
tenor in the Champs-Élysées, and round him, Thracius the beggar, clad
like Bobèche, takes up a collection; the bore who stops you by the
button of your coat in the Tuileries makes you repeat after a lapse of
two thousand years Thesprion’s apostrophe: _Quis properantem me
prehendit pallio? _ The wine on Surêne is a parody of the wine of Alba,
the red border of Desaugiers forms a balance to the great cutting of
Balatro, Père-Lachaise exhales beneath nocturnal rains the same gleams
as the Esquiliæ, and the grave of the poor bought for five years, is
certainly the equivalent of the slave’s hived coffin.
Seek something that Paris has not. The vat of Trophonius contains
nothing that is not in Mesmer’s tub; Ergaphilas lives again in
Cagliostro; the Brahmin Vâsaphantâ become incarnate in the Comte de
Saint-Germain; the cemetery of Saint-Médard works quite as good
miracles as the Mosque of Oumoumié at Damascus.
Paris has an Æsop-Mayeux, and a Canidia, Mademoiselle Lenormand. It is
terrified, like Delphos at the fulgurating realities of the vision; it
makes tables turn as Dodona did tripods. It places the grisette on the
throne, as Rome placed the courtesan there; and, taking it altogether,
if Louis XV. is worse than Claudian, Madame Dubarry is better than
Messalina. Paris combines in an unprecedented type, which has existed
and which we have elbowed, Grecian nudity, the Hebraic ulcer, and the
Gascon pun. It mingles Diogenes, Job, and Jack-pudding, dresses up a
spectre in old numbers of the _Constitutional_, and makes Chodruc
Duclos.
Although Plutarch says: _the tyrant never grows old_, Rome, under Sylla
as under Domitian, resigned itself and willingly put water in its wine.
The Tiber was a Lethe, if the rather doctrinary eulogium made of it by
Varus Vibiscus is to be credited: _Contra Gracchos Tiberim habemus,
Bibere Tiberim, id est seditionem oblivisci_. Paris drinks a million
litres of water a day, but that does not prevent it from occasionally
beating the general alarm and ringing the tocsin.
With that exception, Paris is amiable. It accepts everything royally;
it is not too particular about its Venus; its Callipyge is Hottentot;
provided that it is made to laugh, it condones; ugliness cheers it,
deformity provokes it to laughter, vice diverts it; be eccentric and
you may be an eccentric; even hypocrisy, that supreme cynicism, does
not disgust it; it is so literary that it does not hold its nose before
Basile, and is no more scandalized by the prayer of Tartuffe than
Horace was repelled by the “hiccup” of Priapus. No trait of the
universal face is lacking in the profile of Paris. The bal Mabile is
not the polymnia dance of the Janiculum, but the dealer in ladies’
wearing apparel there devours the lorette with her eyes, exactly as the
procuress Staphyla lay in wait for the virgin Planesium. The Barrière
du Combat is not the Coliseum, but people are as ferocious there as
though Cæsar were looking on. The Syrian hostess has more grace than
Mother Saguet, but, if Virgil haunted the Roman wine-shop, David
d’Angers, Balzac and Charlet have sat at the tables of Parisian
taverns. Paris reigns. Geniuses flash forth there, the red tails
prosper there. Adonaï passes on his chariot with its twelve wheels of
thunder and lightning; Silenus makes his entry there on his ass. For
Silenus read Ramponneau.
Paris is the synonym of Cosmos, Paris is Athens, Sybaris, Jerusalem,
Pantin. All civilizations are there in an abridged form, all barbarisms
also. Paris would greatly regret it if it had not a guillotine.
A little of the Place de Grève is a good thing. What would all that
eternal festival be without this seasoning? Our laws are wisely
provided, and thanks to them, this blade drips on this Shrove Tuesday.
