Boyer d'Argens (auquel, dans sa lecture, Guillaume Pigeard de Gurbert attribue définitivement la paternité de Thérèse philosophe) laisse entendre qu'il se trouvera toujours des sots, des machines lourdement organisées, des espèces d'automates accoutumés à penser par l'organe d'autrui pour s'offusquer contre la lasciveté de ce livre. Et aujourd'hui, il ne manque pas d'esprits pour dire cet érotique insignifiant par excès. Pourtant, que cette oeuvre d'apparence légère soit celle d'un philosophe important du XVIIIe siècle devrait nous alerter. Ce qui s'énonce là, sous le double couvert d'une apologie du plaisir et d'une instruction sur le rôle de la sensation dans nos déterminations, c'est une protestation contre l'intégrisme religieux et les préjugés sociaux. Restif de la Bretonne, Sade, Dostoïevski, Apollinaire, prestigieux lecteurs, ne s'y sont pas trompés.
Jean-Baptiste de Boyer, marquis d'Argens, né à Aix-en-Provence en 1704, est mort en 1771. Il vécut en Hollande, puis en Prusse, où il fut lié à Frédéric II. L'interrogation du goût et des plaisirs constitue, tout au long de son oeuvre, le principe directeur d'une philosophie qui occupe une position centrale dans l'épicurisme français.
Jean-Baptiste de Boyer, Marquis d'Argens (June 24, 1704 - January 11, 1771) was a French philosopher and writer.
Boyer was born in Aix-en-Provence. An arch-opponent of the Catholic Church, intolerance and religious oppression, he had to flee his native France and his books were frequently denounced by the Inquisition. In 1724 he accompanied the French ambassador on a journey to Constantinople, where he lived for a year. After an adventurous youth, he was disinherited by his father. He then settled for a time in Amsterdam, where he wrote his famous Lettres juives (The Hague, 6 vols, 1738-1742), Lettres chinoises (The Hague, 6 vols, 1739-1742), and Lettres cabalistiques (2nd ed., 7 vols, 1769); also the Mémoires secrets de la république des lettres (7 vols, 1743-1478), afterwards revised and augmented as Histoire de l'esprit humain (Berlin, 14 vols, 1765-1768). He also wrote six novels, the best known of which is Thérèse Philosophe (1748).
He was invited by Frederick the Great to his court where he spent the greater part of his career. He was appointed a Royal Chamberlain and Director of the Belles-Lettres section of the Academy. He married a Berlin actress, Mlle Cochois and had one daughter. D'Argens returned to France in 1769, and died near Toulon on the 11th of January 1771, aged 66. He was a friend of Voltaire, Pierre-Louis de Maupertuis, Leonhard Euler, Samuel Formey, Andreas Sigismund Marggraf, Charles-Louis de Beausobre, the Abbé de Prades, Casanova, Friedrich Nicolai and Moses Mendelssohn.
Lucien avait bien raison d'étriller cette sorte de philosophes qui font profession de préférer la luxure à la vérité, et abusent de l'autorité qu'inspire un peu de savoir sur des ignorants pour en faire des dupes. Ainsi, dans ce roman pornographique du XVIII, Thérèse, une jeune fille élevée au couvent dans l'ignorance et la superstition, après avoir été témoin de l'imposture d'un directeur de conscience qui jouit des charmants appâts d'une sotte dévote, en fait confidence à une paire de libertin, qui l'instruisent d'un système opposant nécessité et volonté, et prônant un élitisme ésotérique: le commun vit dans l'ignorance, et seuls quelques élus jouissent pleinement de la vie, secret qu'ils cachent jalousement pour joindre le mépris à l'hypocrisie. Le premier argument visant à nier la théodicée permet de vaincre ses scrupules hérités de la religion, tandis que le second, employé par les gourous et charlatans de tous les temps, vise à inspirer à cet Hermotimos féminin un enthousiasme vaniteux. Nos acolytes introduisent l'héroïne dans un monde de riches débauchés, puis elle tombe dans les rets d'un comte, sorte de prince charmant, qui achève d'insinuer dans son esprit les ferments aboutissant à la réduire à l'objet consentant de ses plaisirs. Pour la philosophie, on repassera: elle s'acquière plus dans la studieuse étude d'une calme solitude, qu'allongée sur de moelleux divans, étourdie de voluptés. Les diverses scènes licencieuses assurèrent la fortune des imprimeurs, qui trafiquèrent avec beaucoup de profit cet ouvrage interdit.
Diderot, uno dei padri dell'illuminismo francese è forse l'autore di questo romanzo a luci rosse. A quell'epoca il romanzo libertino era più in voga di quanto si pensi, ma questo scritto si differenzia in quanto Therese è sì una donna di piacere, ma allo stesso tempo ogni suo discorso è uno spunto per dar vita a un ragionamento filosofico. Inoltre non mancano chiari riferimenti contro la Chiesa e il regime di Luigi XV. Il racconto prende spunto da un fatto reale: un gesuita si approfitta dell'innocenza di una giovane ragazza e la debolezza di lei farà si che il gesuita rimanga impunito. Therese nel romanzo assiste alle pratiche del gesuita sull'amica e rimane ossessionata da ciò che ha spiato.. il passo successivo sarà breve... Un romanzo che fece scandalo ma che all'epoca tutti cercarono di leggere.
Cuore del pensiero illuminista, questo racconto è un trattato filosofico sulla religione, ispirato dalle nascenti scienze sociali, dove la sessualità è affrontata per spiegare le contraddizioni di una fede che viene identificata erroneamente con la religione. Di scandaloso, per l'epoca, c'è sicuramente la franchezza con la quale vengono messi a nudo le eresie di alcuni preti che si approfittavano della devozione innocente per dar sfogo alla propria lascivia. Non si tratta di un breve romanzo erotico, ma se così si vuol definire, visto il racconto delle varie esperienze sessuali (scandaloso solo per l'epoca), allora non può che definirsi illuminante e colto. Ci ho visto molto di quello che Hegel ha scritto poi nella Fenomenologia.
A alternância entre romance de formação, cenas de sexo e discussões filosóficas remete à "Filosofia na alcova" de Sade. Inclusive nas conclusões libertinas a que chegam Teresa e seu mentor. A diferença é que, enquanto o Marquês desejava destruir completamente a moralidade do Antigo Regime, o Conde a considera como um mal necessário para a manutenção da vida social, e deve ser desprezada apenas por uma casta superior, mesmo assim apenas entre quatro paredes. Para o populacho, os dez mandamentos; para a elite, as orgias.
Ho divorato questo breve romanzo erotico del Settecento attribuito a Denis Diderot. La lettura è scorrevole e variegata. Alle parti dedicate alla descrizione senza veli di varie avventure erotiche della protagonista e di vari altri personaggi, l'autore alterna riflessioni molto interessanti e attuali su temi quali la Natura, la Morale, la Religione. Il testo è intriso di tutti quegli ideali tipici degli Illuministi. Insomma, un romanzo erotico di certo non scontato.
To mix a religious treatise with an erotic novella may be strange, but when you listen to Therese it sounds quite obvious. Plot: A girl loves God and sex. - See more at: http://www.rtbookreviews.com/rt-daily...
For those who come to Therese Philosophe as one might approach a Marquis de Sade novel, they may be pleasantly surprised, or disappointed, depending on which way you lean. In either case this is a great novel: it's lots of fun and the book "works" on multiple levels: libertinage, comedy, age of Enlightenment philosophy (think Rousseau, Ben Franklin).
The book is divided into four sections really, and there is a case to be made that maybe not all were written by the same person and/or at the same time. In any case, it adheres and quite well. The first section is about Father Dirrag and Mademoiselle Cadiere (anagrams for real-life characters), the second is the Enlightenment section if you will: dialogs between Mme. C*** and Abbot T***, with some sex interspersed to cheer it up. The third section is Bois-Laurier's section, she's a prostitute who is also a virgin -- lot's of opportunity for fun and laughs here. The final section is the denouement. You'll have to read it.
The first section (Father Dirrag, &c.) is in the same genre as Marquis de Sade -- and one might at first glance think it was inspired by something out of the infamous marqui's novel Justine, but actually it's just the other way around: Justine was written/published (in 1791) over 40 years AFTER Therese Philosophe came out (in 1748). de Sade clearly read Therese and has said so himself.
In terms of where this novel falls in categories or genres, Therese Philosophe was published about 8 years after Richardson's Pamela, which latter is cast as conduct literature, but clearly crosses the line toward libertine literature (let's call it soft-libertinage); the British censures of Pamela thought so as well (libertinage, not so soft back then). Therese Philosophe is libertine literature, but of a soft-core variety (your mileage may vary however).
What might surprise most readers is that Therese Philosophe is a *very funny novel*. If you like Gargantua and Pantagruel, you'll probably love the section on Bois-Laurier.
To be honest, I did not read *this* particular publication of the novel, so I cannot vouch for it specifically. But I imagine it's the same text in French I read. This review is for Therese Philosophe in general.
If you don't read French, or read it haltingly, there is a new English translation that came out this week, called Thérèse Finds Happiness (by Black Scat Books/New Urge Editions). It's a faithful translation with all the fun and sex. (I know, because I translated it.)
This is a famous libertine novel from 1748. Woven in amongst all the sex (which is effectively a highly successful marketing ploy) is a good deal of serious philosophy concerning religious notions of free will as opposed to the author’s preferred biological determinism (genetics being unknown at the time) which leads to a rejection of all notions of sin and salvation. No seriously, this is like a serious intellectual article tucked away in a dirty magazine. Hugh Hefner invented nothing. And these moral arguments are all still highly relevant today.
This is a brutally anticlerical work, but not an atheistic work for all its rejection of organised religion: a non judgmental god is invoked here, in a humanist way. The author extols libertinage but not in an absolute form: the pleasures of one must be limited lest they impede the pleasures of another. All morality must be based on a social contract, but unfortunately the author is of the view that only a philosophical few can lead their lives in this way, whilst the uncultured masses need the yoke of religion to keep them under control. Nevertheless, the author has some modern notions in that women should be accorded the same access to pleasure as men and men must take care to protect women from unwanted pregnancies and social downfall. In other words, be as perverse as your impulses demand, but do so discretely. Fair enough I suppose.
Reading in the 21st century, this is all quite tame to be honest. But in pre-revolutionary France, a punishingly Catholic and monarchist country where the clergy could literally get away with anything, and where any call for equal or dignified treatment resulted in the most brutal repression, the philosophy expressed here was absolute dynamite, far more threatening to the established order than any of the sex could ever be - although sex conducted deliberately to avoid procreation is still a highly controversial topic in conservative parts of today’s world. This book would have been a rallying cry for revolution.
But is it a good read? Surprisingly so. For a book of the time, it’s pretty readable. And it’s funny in a good natured caricatural way. This is not vicious like de Sade. It’s bawdy vaudeville. The protagonist spends more time rolling around laughing than rolling in the hay. I’m glad to have read it, but I’m unlikely to read it again. It’s a curio rather than a classic.
Jolie histoire if you're into nunsploitation. The heroine is a devout young Franciscan sister who has the problem of being by her very God-given nature obsessed with the pleasures of the flesh. The penitent ingenue witnesses graphic lewd acts by a priest seducing another lovely young nun with promises that extase will lead her directly to sainthood. From there Thérèse discovers masturbation and proceeds to other adventures. In between action scenes are earnest arguments (the "philosophe" part) for accepting sex and fleshly pleasures as part of God's creation and plan. I see no problem with that. Do you?
Conocí esta obra cuando estaba leyendo El jugador de Dosyevski. Me llamo mucho la atención cuando leí en valdemar.com un poquito sobre la obra : Teresa filósofa un cuadro del erotismo de la Francia ilustrada, y se convierte en antecedente claro, por su mezcla de escenas eróticas y de reflexión, del marqués de Sade y su Filosofía en el tocador.
Entonces pensé oh la la ¿Sade? Tengo que leerlo ya mismo.
"Saciar los apetitos y lograr los deleites cuyo anhelo nos infundió ÉL al crearnos, es la manera más bella y más pura de rendir culto a Dios"
"Sim, ignorantes! A natureza é uma quimera, tudo é obra de Deus. É dele que nos vêm as necessidades de comer, de beber e de gozar dos prazeres. Por que então enrubescer executando os seus desígnios? Por que temer contribuir para a felicidade dos seres humanos, preparando-lhes estimulantes variados, apropriados para contentar com sensualidade esses diversos apetites? Poderia eu ficar apreensiva de desgostar a Deus e aos homens, anunciando verdades que somente podem esclarecer, sem prejudicar?"
“toutes les religions, sans en excepter aucune, sont les ouvrages des hommes; il n'y en a point qui n'ait eu ses martyrs, ses prétendus miracles. que prouvent de plus les nôtres que ceux des autres religions?”
Not recommended; it is vapid and salacious. I give this book two stars only because of its explanatory power in regard to the historical context of the French Enlightenment.
Un livre pour tous ceux et celles qui aiment lire quelque chose vraiment de philosophique. Aussi paraît-il qu’il y a beaucoup de la sexualité dans ce livre 😉
One might come to Thérèse Finds Happiness as one might approach a Marquis de Sade novel; and one may be pleasantly surprised, or disappointed, depending on which way you lean. In either case this is a great novel: it's lots of fun and the book "works" on multiple levels: libertinage, comedy, age of Enlightenment philosophy (think Rousseau, Ben Franklin).
The book is divided into four sections really, and there is a case to be made that maybe not all of them were written by the same person or at the same time. In any case, it adheres and quite well. The first section is about Father Dirrag and Mademoiselle Cadiere (anagrams for real-life characters), the second is the Enlightenment section if you will: dialogs between Mme. C*** and Abbot T***, with some sex interspersed to cheer it up. The third section is Bois-Laurier's section, she's a prostitute who is also a virgin -- lot's of opportunity for fun and laughs here. The final section is the denouement. You'll have to read it.
The first section (Father Dirrag, &c.) is in the same genre as a Marquis de Sade novel -- just what one might expect, in it's own way though, -- and one might at first glance think it was inspired by something out of the infamous marquis's novel Justine, but actually it's just the other way around: Justine was published (in 1791) over 40 years AFTER Thérèse Philosophe came out (in 1748). de Sade clearly read Therese and has said so himself.
In terms of where this novel falls in categories or genres, Thérèse Philosophe was published about 8 years after Richardson's Pamela, which latter novel was originally cast as conduct literature, but clearly crossed the line toward libertine literature (let's call it soft-libertinage); the British censures of Pamela thought so as well (libertinage; maybe not so good a vehicle for young people's conduct).
Thérèse Finds Happiness, this modern translation, is libertine literature, but of a soft-core variety (your mileage may vary however).
What might surprise most readers is that Thérèse Finds Happiness is *very funny* -- in many places. If you like Gargantua and Pantagruel by Rabelais, you'll probably love the section on Bois-Laurier.
Thérèse Finds Happiness is Thérèse Philosophe or Thérèse The Philosopher -- the name was changed for this publication and translation to make it modern and also to emphasize that this novel is above all a comedy: nobody dies in it (nobody of importance anyways), and the heroine of the story ends up happy. It's a lot of fun.
If you can read French, even if haltingly, you should read the novel in the original. But if you can't, or don't want to be bothered looking up words in a dictionary, or puzzling over the somewhat strange spelling of words from 18th century France -- this is the new English translation for you. It's translated to keep the verve and flavor of the original, but in a modern way. (For instance, things like "Thank you so much," which people didn't really say ten years ago even. They said simply "Thank you").
Lots of fun and sex, if you like that sort of thing. A little (just a little) flagellation. And a faithful translation to boot (I know, because I translated it). But don't take my word for it...
One of the most provocative and erotic books i have ever had the pleasure to read. The Marquis d'Argens succeeded in his goal to please and to instruct. The boldy pornographic sections of the book only serve to enhance the thoughtful philosophical musings on freedom, sexuality, and human nature. reveals a side of Enlightenment Philosophy that is not often discussed outside of the Marquis de Sade's writing. even 350 years later, it is still both titillating and sophisticated.
Divorato in poche sere. Ogni riga più intrigante dell'altra e un pensiero sulla chiesa e clero da far paura, ma tanto vero. Una storia (vera) raccontata da una protagonista che fa "sesso" solo con se stessa fino alla fine del racconto. Un'iniziazione diversa da quello che ci si aspetta, vissuta attraverso gli altri.
The second star is for historical significance and the fact that I got a super fun essay out this book. (Although it probably does not deserve that second star if only because of the sheer number of times the word "member" is used to refer to a certain part of male anatomy.)
considering the usage of some unnecessary terms i do believe it was accurate to ban this book in the 19th century. Jesus! even today we cringe when we listen euphemisms for vagina and penis. i much enjoyed this. very very much.