It’s the birthday of Voltaire, (books by this author) the man who helped spark the Enlightenment in France, born François-Marie Arouet in Paris (1694). He was a well-known playwright and poet. He spent most of his late life in exile, and he wrote most of his work from England. In the last year of his life, 1778, he was allowed to return home to Paris. More than 300 people came to visit him his first day in the city, including Benjamin Franklin.

Voltaire wrote, “God is a comedian, playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”

And, “To succeed in the world it is not enough to be stupid, you must also be well-mannered.”

And, “Let us read and let us dance … two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.”

The featured poem, Fanning’s “A Deer in the Target,” is also worth a read. Also, check out “Snow,” by George Bilgere, from two days before.

People lie. I don’t think there’s anyone so naive as to think that everyone is honest all of the time. Honesty is an ideal — one, I think, that people don’t really want to live up to. Yes, I know we give it plenty of lip-service, but when it comes down to it, people want to be deceived — I know I do every time I login to do my banking, when I try on a new pair of slacks, or when I write something new. However, this is not what I’m talking about. I think the problem goes even deeper: it’s, perhaps, not that we want to be deceived, but that we don’t want to learn to question in the first place. If we can remain blissfully naive, unaware of alternatives, then we do not need to question our values as being correct or even harmful. If we remain focused — moral, good, upright, etc. — then it becomes easier for us to be controlled by those who also espouse the same beliefs and values. I know, I’m being all abstract. Let’s use Tartuffe as an illustrative text.

As I said above: it’s not the fact that Tartuffe lies to Orgon and his family that makes him a scoundrel (indeed, one could question the outcome of his deception as as morally dubious and relevant, but more on that below), but that Tartuffe is caught in a lie that makes his actions intolerable. For, being caught in a lie shakes the foundation of decorum, something which seems much more important than morality itself.

Decorum suggests that one should speak only in certain situations and only about certain topics. Tartuffe himself voices what we don’t want voiced, not outright, but by his actions. Tartuffe knows the rhetoric of morality, but his intent and actions contradict what he espouses. Ironically, when Tartuffe gives advice, it’s often very decorous and frequently pragmatic. For example, before Orgon disinherits Damis, Tartuffe confesses to Orgon:

At face value, Tartuffe is right, but part of the dramatic irony is that Orgon cannot see that Tartuffe is a scam artist when the rest of his family can. Orgon seems blinded by his desire for power, but it’s his very actions, especially those that banish Damis and make Tartuffe a rightful heir, that damn him socially. Orgon’s perceptions of truth are blinded by his desire to maintain his superiority: “I shall defy you all, and make it clear / That I’m the one who gives the orders here” (3.6.57-58). If Orgon had listened to Tartuffe here, then he would not have been vulnerable. One could suggest that Orgon got what he deserved, ignoring the speeches of moderation from Cléante, dismissing the words of Dorine as out-of-line, and not seeming to care one whit about anything else other then his diminishing dominance. At this point, while everyone can see Tartuffe for what he really is, he is not in a position to be a threat, only a nuisance.

It’s only after act three that Taruffe gains the power to act with impunity, or so he thinks. He keeps up the act, but becomes more bold. The problem arises when Tartuffe actually says what he believes that causes the scandal and discomfort. For example, when he’s trying to persuade Elmire to prove her love for him physically, he states:

Sin is not something done to one’s self. Like morality, it must be shared to be sinful. While I’m aware that religion suggests otherwise, the notion of “sin” and subsequent moral positions are all based on our relationships to others. If two consenting adults keep their actions with each other a secret, is there really sin? Tartuffe makes us uneasy because he questions the foundation of morality: here, adultery is not a sin, if no one else finds out. It only becomes sinful if someone else is hurt, like a cuckolded husband. What makes Tartuffe immoral is his blasé response to someone else’s pain, pain usually precipitated by the same. Tartuffe has no remorse or compassion, just desires. His actions, decorous or not, cannot be allowed to operate with impunity.

Tartuffe does seem to be a bit sociopathic. That is, he has no regard for others, only his is own desires. Just this diagnosis makes us feel better by suggesting that Tartuffe is an anomaly, that he is the twisted exception, not the rule. However, the end of the play suggests that reason and goodness might need help of a higher power in order to combat those who might use the semblance of reason and goodness for their own selfish ends. Perhaps the king’s intervention represents that of law: for what are laws but to officially mediate between passion and what aught to be?