This book was converted from its physical edition to the digital format by a community of volunteers. You may find it for free on the web. Purchase of the Kindle edition includes wireless delivery.
Public condemned Les fleurs du mal (1857), obscene only volume of French writer, translator, and critic Charles Pierre Baudelaire; expanded in 1861, it exerted an enormous influence over later symbolist and modernist poets.
Reputation of Charles Pierre Baudelaire rests primarily on perhaps the most important literary art collection, published in Europe in the 19th century. Similarly, his early experiment Petits poèmes en prose (1868) (Little Prose Poems) most succeeded and innovated of the time.
From financial disaster to prosecution for blasphemy, drama and strife filled life of known Baudelaire with highly controversial and often dark tales of Edgar Allan Poe. Long after his death, his name represents depravity and vice. He seemingly speaks directly to the 20th century civilization.
Graphic, visual, painting little pictures for you with words and the content seems to be designed to shock; and yet the form of his poems is very very carefully crafted. Magnifique!
As a poetry neophyte, I greatly enjoyed Baudelaire's poetry in this collection.
I'm sure that poetry is among the hardest of all things to translate. If you keep the rhyme structure you can easily lose the nuance, but if you keep the nuance and translate more literally, it ceases to feel like poetry and feels more like prose.
The translator seems to strike a good balance, because Baudelaire's poetry comes through as aesthetically pleasing and at times highly philosophical. My understanding is that Baudelaire was among the first poets to attempt to elevate the dark and malevolent to the level of sublimity that poets before him would usually ascribe to things like nature. He found the beauty in the terrible (hence, "Flowers of Evil"). Huemer explains this in his introduction, but for someone like me without a great deal of background knowledge of the subject, he dwelt in this introducton upon the historical facts of the poet's life too much, and upon the poet's impact, influence and style too little.
I don't know poetry, but I know what I like, and I liked Baudelaire. That's all I'm probably qualified to say.
I wanted to read a bit of Baudelaire’s work because of the references in Huysmans’ À rebours comparing him to Poe.
I was disappointed. I’m sure much was literally “lost in translation” but I found very few similarities in their works. While Baudelaire explores some morose themes, like his love of a skeleton in his poem “The Dance of Death,” his writing lacks the same soporific or hypnotic effect of Poe. The translation I read offered terribly broken pentameter and poor typesetting which didn’t help matters. If I was able to read in the native French, I’m sure the nuances of the language would allow me to make a more fair comparison.
I did enjoy some of his prose poetry. “The Shooting Range and the Cemetery” offered an interesting juxtaposition between glorifying a means of death within reach of a final resting place. This fact wasn’t lost on those trying to rest!
Overall, I’m sure he’s a fine poet. In the future, I may read some reviews to try and locate a better translation.
‘’Não existe objecto mais profundo, mais deslumbrante do que uma janela alumiará por uma candeia. O que se pode ver à luz do sol é sempre menos interessante do que o que se passa por trás de um vidro. Nesse buraco negro, ou luminoso, vive-se, sonha-se, sofre-se a vida’’
Estas edições literatura portátil: ‘Walter Benjamín também era alma gémea de Marcel Duchamp. Ambos foram vagabundos, sempre de passagem, exilados do mundo da arte e coleccionadores carregados de coisas, quer dizer, de paixões. Ambos sabiam que miniaturizar é tornar portátil, e que esta é a forma ideal de possuir algo para um vagabundo ou um exilado’
Even in English translation, Baudelaire's writing, poetry or prose- poem, is as exquisite as it is delicious. And as clear and fresh as a mountain stream, too. His gothic is timeless, and his 'flaneury' utterly modern. He is a man you would love to have dinner with, him leaving the food untouched as he raconteurs , fired up by laudanum and brandy.
To read it is to devour it and still hunger for more.
Una obra digna de leer leída, muchas veces me fui con la imaginación, hacía los lugares que el autor me llevaba, una excelente obra que para quien desea viajar, sin moverse de su sitio, acá tiene un boleto a un escape de su mundo