Yes Candide

Brief plot summary: Candide is raised in his uncle's castle, and falls in love with his cousin Cundegonde. Unfortunately, he gets caught kissing her and expelled. In the outside world he faces a harsh reality: war, shipwreck, earthquake, the Inquisition, murder, the loss of friends and mentors, and in the end, boredom. His luck turns around at times: he is briefly taken in by a kind Anabaptist, he hopes to reunite with his love Cunegonde, he discovers other friends he thought were dead, he finds the magical world of El Dorado, and he becomes wealthy. However, over the course of the story, the hardships outweigh the joys, and Candide becomes disillusioned.

I recently finished reading Candide (Subtitled Optimism) by Voltaire. I felt pretty smart to be reading such a distinguished author (whose house and tomb I have actually seen, although it didn't matter all that much to me at the time), and Candide was surprisingly readable. It's a satire exploring the Enlightenment idea that this is the best of all possible worlds, told through the story of a boy named Candide who grows up being taught this worldview, but then has it threatened by experience with the world.

The introduction describes the Optimism mocked by Candide as a philosophical position claiming that "in spite of errors and appearances God's creation is as good as it could be," (xi) and "that all that is and happens is for the best." (xii) The endnotes continue, "This world is the best possible world, because God, being all-wise, must know all possible worlds, being all-powerful, must be able to create whatever he chooses, and being all-good, must choose the best." (122) This is the philosophy of Leibniz, represented in the story by Candide's professor Pangloss. It involves a priori reasoning ("arguments from logic rather than experience" [128]) that reminds me of the belief that the earth is the center of the universe: because of who God is and who we are, things must be a certain way; never mind checking to see if the evidence supports such a theory.
Such a philosophy also leads to a belief in cause and effect: everything has contributed to the best of all possible worlds and each contribution is therefore necessary for the perfect conclusion. Pangloss explains, "Things cannot be other than they are: for, since everything is made to serve an end, everything is necessary for the best of ends." (4) Hence, fatalism.

Candide seems to discuss "the world" not just in the sense of the earth and universe, but the book also considers personal worlds, in an arrogant sense: my existence is the best possible existence, my castle is better than anyone else's, et cetera. However, most characters tell "worst of all possible worlds" stories as they elaborate upon their woes. While these tales could reinforce in Candide the idea that despite his hardships his existence was quite privileged, they instead have the opposite effect: Candide becomes discouraged in company with the others who suffer.

An alternative philosophy to Optimism is illustrated in the last half of the book by Candide's companion Martin. Martin's difficult life has led him to not expect good things. Late in the novel, when everyone else is miserable, we are told that "as for Martin, he was firmly persuaded that people are equally miserable wherever they are; he took things as they came." His low expectations for life made him more satisfied than anyone else with unavoidable harsh circumstances. This seems like a pretty good idea to me, but I'm not sure what Voltaire really thinks of it. Later Martin's outlook is referred to as "detestable principles." (91) That's the tricky thing about satires - I'm never sure if this time the author is being serious.

Despite all the suffering it describes, the book has a decidedly cheerful tone. Hardships are described in a matter-of-fact and off-hand way, and stories are told euphemistically. For instance, in punishment for appearing to desert from the army he is conscripted into, Candide is given the choice of running the gauntlet or being shot in the head. He reluctantly chooses the first option, but "as they were lining up for the third run, Candide, who could take no more, politely asked if they would instead be so kind as to cave his head in." (7) For this reason, I have a hard time seeing the characters of Candide as real human people. It seems to me like a cartoon. Of course, I am also swayed by the fantastic cartoon cover of my edition of the book.

There were a couple of lines in Candide that really caught my attention:
- "Stones were formed to be hewn and made into castles, hence his Lordship's beautiful castle." (4) Following Pangloss's explanation of how noses were made to wear glasses and legs were made for pants, this sentence carries the unfortunate idea that everything exists for human consumption and the earth is ours to abuse. I'm sure stones were made for more general reasons than the construction of castles.
- "It is the price we pay for the sugar you eat in Europe." (52) This sentence is spoken to Candide by a slave in South America, who has lost a hand and a leg as punishment for various infractions. It is as powerful to me outside of its context as in it, and it reminds me of my social justice-minded friends.

For nearly the entire story Candide pines after Cundegonde. Over and over he finds her and they become separated again, and the hope of reuniting with her permanently is what fuels his optimism. At the end of the story, he does find and ransom her, but by this time she has become ugly and mean. He no longer wants to marry her, but he does so anyway out of duty and spite. His dream didn't align with reality, and now that it has become reality it is akin to a nightmare. The things that we hope for so often don't turn out to be as good as we expect.

Candide and his friends seem reasonably happy at the end of the story (the very end of the story, not the almost-end), when they devote themselves to simple work. However, I can't decide if they're actually happy. Candide is not as deliriously happy as he expected to be, but neither is he as miserable as he is at the near-end of the story when he has a hard time deciding whether his current boredom is perhaps worse than all the other malfortunes he and his friends have faced. When Pangloss starts spouting his philosophy about how all their hardships were necessary for the agreeable place they ended up (and eating candied citron and pistachios does sound pretty good), Candide responds, "that is well said..." (94) He doesn't deny or challenge the claim that they are satisfactorily happy. (Then again, he never seems to directly argue with Pangloss.) However, by his affirmation Candide may intend to say "I hear you," more than "I completely agree," as he goes on to say, "but we must cultivate our garden." I think he has accustomed himself to a quieter sort of happiness. He may not consider it the best possible existence, but he is satisfied that neither is it the worst. Being relatively free from pain leaves him relatively happy.

I found the philosophical exploration in Candide interesting, but it did not relate directly to my life because I myself do not spend much time wondering about whether or not this is the best of all possible worlds. Personally, I found greater value in the book as a story of Candide growing up (Wikipedia considers Candide to be a classic bildungsroman) and of what happens to the beliefs that he is raised with as they come into conflict with the realities of the world. At the beginning, he is thoroughly convinced of the teaching he receives that this is the best possible world. As he faces hardships, he goes through various stages of doubt: he continues to interpret his new experience in light of his learned philosophy; he wonders what other existences must be like if his is the best and yet so miserable; he wishes his professor were present to explain how his new experiences fit within the philosophy; he imagines he might begin to argue against the philosophy were his professor available; he is swayed by good luck to believe it again; he acknowledges his previous circumstances were greatly lacking but believes that perfect existence had to exist somewhere; he claims he is giving up on Optimism altogether; in good circumstances he still finds himself believing it by default; and then it gradually slips away from him. He goes through a phase of bitter loss, but ends up with a peaceful compromise, believing that his existence is relatively agreeable and that is enough. Loss of belief is not a smooth, straightforward path; it oscillates between doubt and faith, like a pendulum that eventually achieves balance.