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The Plot
The story begins in the small village of Tournay France in 1780. The young
boy, Claude Page, has been born with a growth on his finger which is noticed by an
unscrupulous surgeon obsessed with its "scientific value." Here, Kurzweil wastes
no time in portrayal of religious people. The surgeon was a "citizen of Geneva. ... A
Man of impeccable disposition, but impeccable in the sense of Calvinist doctrine, meaning
that he was free from sin. He held himself in the highest regard even if those around him
did not" (p. 9). This medical quack storms into the life of the Page family on the
pretense of a medical/religious emergency when his real intent was to acquire a new
specimen for his disreputable "scientific research." Rather than removing the
growth, as was agreed, the surgeon amputates the boy's finger in order to preserve the
integrity of the specimen for his collection. When this travesty is finally discovered the
shameless surgeon asserts that Francis Bacon condoned this kind of "research,"
and the boy's loss would serve the "gains of science ... and pay tribute to God's
greater glory" (p. 18). At this point enters one of the central heroes of the story -
the defrocked Abbé. Prior to this discovery the Abbé appeared to be a kindly priest who
was available to give encouragement to the family in their time of need. With the
revelation of the surgeon's betrayal of their trust he rises up in righteous indignation.
In a fury he declares, "Damn you, damn your study, damn your misreading of Bacon. I
hope that this deformed person will have his revenge on you. In fact, I
declare right now that he will!"
The next scenes relate the efforts of the Abbé to encourage the disheartened Claude by
acknowledging his artistic gifts which were otherwise unrecognized. After much effort
Claude finally responds to the Abbé's encouragement and an offer is extended to work
under a loose relationship which is distantly akin to an apprenticeship, but is more like
a discipleship in a new philosophy. Thus, begins Claude's relationship to the Abbé and
his interest in science, mechanisms, and apostasy. The Abbé immediately begins to prepare
this young boy in the many requirements of the particular art that his industry requires:
artistic sketching, enameled painting, and the related technology. At first Claude finds
this new knowledge interesting, but it is not long before he becomes dissatisfied because
he has different leanings. Eventually the Abbé includes Claude in the mechanical aspects
of his business since he is financing his "scientific interests" through the
manufacture of pornographic watches. Not only does the Abbé disciple Claude by example in
his mechanical interests, but also his religious acrimony. The growth of Claude's skills
in these fields is beyond what the Abbé had hoped for and their cottage industry thrives
since this was "an especially pornographic age" (p. 238). Then all of this
"progress" takes a big setback when Claude listens outside the chapel to what
was rumored to be a routine sadomasochistic affair (pp. 59, 83, 84) between the Abbé and
a certain Madame Dubois. He overhears and sees an argument in silhouette on the chapel
curtain which ends with an angry hammer blow to the head of Madame Dubois. Claude responds
in fear and disgust, since his trust had been so foolishly misplaced, and flees without
any explanation.
The next period of Claude's life begins when he runs away to Paris in order to fulfill his
dreams of being a master-mechanic. His youthful naiveté is immediately exposed to the
ravages of eighteenth century French society with its miserable slums and wanton upper
class. Claude soon falls into despair. Out of desperation, and against the entreaties of
his friends, Claude decides to accept an apprenticeship under the previously encountered
and contemptible pornographic bookseller Lucien Livre. In previous encounters Livre had
ridiculed Claude's interest in mechanics and declared that his name was his destiny and
now he revels in the fulfillment of his prophecy. After some time Claude settles into the
life of an exploited apprentice until Livre discovers that he has not forgotten his
earlier mechanical aspirations. When Livre attempts to humiliate Claude the resulting
circumstances cause him to meet the lust object of his pornographic past -- Madame
Alexandra Hugon. Kurzweil now has this much older married woman seduce and prostitute a
fifteen year old boy as though this was his "sexual salvation." The Madame is
generally indifferent to Claude's naive attachment and uses him to satisfy her own
perverse desires. After a long period of this new kind of exploitation Claude finally
demands that his mechanical abilities be recognized and the Madame agrees to subsidize his
efforts. When Claude presents his mechanical labor of love to Madame Hugon she utterly
rejects it and they depart with the deeply embittered emotions that always accompany a
relationship based on lust.
Now, as a broken young man, Claude grows increasingly despondent until he is shaken by the
news of a devastating fire in the village of Tournay. Claude rushes home and finds that
his mother and sisters were all killed in the fire. These circumstances ultimately bring
the Abbé and Claude together again, but now he is mature enough to finally confront his
worst fears about his former mentor. Before Claude can explain the reason for his hasty
departure, and his feelings of betrayal, he learns that he had made a terrible mistake.
The forsaken Abbé opens his heart to Claude by sharing his past great expectations of
becoming a master-mechanic. His last hope was to secretly find the limits of his
mechanical abilities by creation of an automat (robot) which he later named Madame Dubois.
On the evening of Claude's observation through the chapel curtain the Abbé had become
frustrated with the failure of his own creation and lowered his hammer on the head of the
mechanical Madame. Now Claude knows what the reader already suspected -- there was no
murder after all. Then the Abbé explained the ecclesiastical injustice he and his own
mentor experienced when they were censured for their unsuccessful creation of a
"Mechanical Christ." The depression and suicide of the Abbé's mentor is offered
as the ultimate justification for his deep hatred of God. Then he declares to Claude that
the creation of Madame Dubois was the "one last attempt to show you the skills that
the Church had tried to suppress" (p. 271). Immediately Claude recognized the
technical error which caused the Mechanical Christ to hemorrhage all over the church
floor. It was due to "capillary action!" The Abbé responds to this insight with
tears, and two are returned to their original relationship "like true lovers"
(p. 272).
The next scenes involve the collaboration of Claude, the Abbé, and a host of friends to
create an automat that can speak. The project passes through a series of barriers
including the difficulties of fund raising, the jealousy of mechanical peers, and the
technical challenges of invention. Eventually, with the help of his comrades, Claude, as
the archetype of the future man, triumphs over all these difficulties and
"remakes" man in his own image (p. 338). The response to this historical
achievements is initially one of indifference on the part of those already in authority,
but eventually the importance to humanistic progress overcomes the resistance of these
protectors of status quo. Claude is not only successful as a master-mechanic, but he
finally achieves a certain level of financial independence.
At this same time, and little known to these new humanists, there was another story
unfolding in the progress of Humanism; the French Revolution had reached the peak of its
own progress. Claude had planned to enlist the support of the aristocracy by having his
mechanical man say, "Vive le Roi," (or "Long live the King",
pp. 344, 345), but the French Revolution interpreted such declarations as treason against
the Republic. The mechanical man was confiscated and Claude was thrown into prison to
languish for as long as was allowed in The Revolution. While Kurzweil finally chose to
release Claude from prison, the mechanical man received the customary penalty for enemies
of the Humanistic French Revolution -- beheading on the Guillotin. Claude ends up living
the rest of his life in industrial England, manufacturing inexpensive clocks and watches.
Though Kurzweil does allow Claude Page to achieve a certain level of financial success in
the industrial revolution he never returns to the zeal of his younger years; "in
fact, the sight of the steam-operated assembly line often made him queasy" (p. 357).
The Epistemological Landscape
Allen Kurzweil's book, A Case of Curiosities, is a historical novel
dealing with the watershed period in France just prior to the French Revolution. In many
ways this story line is familiar, with an ambitious, but naive youth striking out to make
a name for himself in a merciless modern metropolis. In the review by Publishers Weekly
(cited in the fly leaf) it is stated that Kurzweil has created "a gallery of
memorable, Dickensian characters"; however, there is more that should be noted in a
comparison with Charles Dickens. Not only are the characters stylistically similar to
those found in the writings of Dickens, but a comparison with his Great Expectations reveals
a striking resemblance in the basic story line. Of course, this story did not originate
with Dickens, and Kurzweil has used it toward very different ends; nevertheless, this
comparison is useful for understanding the epistemological landscape of this novel.
The world view entered by Kurzweil, and France in the 18th century, was primarily
influenced by a humanism bent on rejection of a relationship with God. The world view of
Dickens, and of England in the 19th century, was largely influenced by the Reformation
with its particular view of man in relationship to God. With this contrast in mind,
Claude's effort to fulfil what he was "meant to do" (p. 92) is seen as
consistent with the iconoclastic humanism embodied in the defrocked Abbé. On the other
hand, we can see Pip's effort to fulfill his "great expectations" in contextual
relief with the simple Christian faith embodied by Joe and Biddy Gargery. Not only are the
story lines similar, but the following events are worthy of comparison: Claude's surgical
encounter with the Calvinist surgeon, and Pip's graveyard encounter with the escaped
convict; Claude's misunderstanding of the nature of his mentor, and Pip's misunderstanding
of the nature of his benefactor. Many of the central characters of A Case of
Curiosities can also be compared to those in Great Expectations as follows:
Claude with Pip; Livre with Pumblechook; and Alexandra with Estella. Finally, the theme
created by Kurzweil illustrates the degenerative desolation of humanism as seen in
Claude's near execution in the humanist French Revolution and his subsequent exile from
home; while the theme created by Dickens illustrates purposeful redemption as seen in
Pip's coming to grips with his past and subsequent return home. With all of the
similarities of these two novels, there is important difference that must be noted.
Dickens would never have written such a vulgar and profane novel.
Kurzweil's Method
At one point in the book Kurzweil wants us to believe that Claude's
thinking underwent a Kuhnian revolution that allowed him to "see" his mechanical
man in a new way (p. 315). It would probably more accurate to say that he underwent a
degenerative evolution that forced him to see man as a mere machine. Kurzweil is aware
that a change occurred in this time period, which he portrays as shift from an
"organic" to a "mechanic" world view, but this would not explain the
loss of moral law in this time. In fact, Kurzweil has not merely told us about the
18th century French world, with its rejection of authority, but has himself entered
into that experience, and especially the rejection of moral authority. This historical
novel is largely focused on the French "pornographic age" and the profane spirit
that motivated it. Kurzweil's use of the 18th century notion of a mechanistic universe has
been applied universally to all domains, including the area of morals. The devaluation of
humanity which is inevitable with such a view has the effect of making sex into a mere
mechanical act. Therefore, the pornographic clockworks, with their moving anatomy, are the
logical result. Further, the idea of morality in any form is in doubt when man is
conceived as a mere machine. Kurzweil illustrates this fact in the many extreme examples
of perversion given without any value judgments except, perhaps, that "everybody is
doing it." The good, the bad, and the ugly are all involved in some form of
obscenity. Not only is the likable thirteen year old Claude involved in the making of
pornography, but so is the lecherous Livre. The examples of perversion found in this book
include: bestiality (pp. 194, 320, 288), pedophilia (p. 106), sex with mechanical man (p,.
344), homosexuality (pp. 164, 340), lesbianism (p. 206), hermaphroditism (p. 216),
adultery (p. 204), "and an assortment of more obscure" perversions (p.71). It is
true that some of these are given by literary allusion, but they are so frequent,
calculated, and lewd that many passages should be classified as "literary
lechery" (p. 197) along with the pornography of Lucien Livre. In addition to these
there are several explicit passages that openly drop the literary pretense. The end result
of this "man as machine" view of sexuality is that the relationship between
intimacy and a loving commitment is lost as symbolized by the obscene watch works which
are called the "Hours of Love" (p. 68).
There is another dimension to the "man as machine" theme which is seen in
Kurzweil's style of description. The detail offered is intended to be so penetrating that
there is no room for human modesty. This is more than realism, but actually amounts to a
vulgar description of virtually every bodily function. It is hard to think of a bodily
fluid, by-product, or excrement that was not described in gruesome detail. An example will
suffice:
He fidgeted for hours at a time, lifting one buttock then the other,
scratching his scalp, twisting his hair, pulling out a few strands and wrapping them
around his finger. He rubbed his hand in his sweaty armpit and sniffed the secretions. ...
He picked his nose, probed his ears, and scraped the film that covered his teeth. He now
grimaced and clutched his testicles even when not in bed (p. 312).
Perhaps the best illustration is seen in Kurzweil's preoccupation with
human phlegm. From the beginning of the book to the end there are continual references to
nasal discharge in one form or another. These references are sometimes used to stigmatize
a person such as the wretched Livre, who is referred to as the "Phlegmagogue"
(p. 150). On the other hand, the admired Abbé was known for his phlegm encrusted coat
sleeve which was used to wipe his sneezes (p. 280). There was also a nun spitting
"prodigiously" (p. 133), a lover spitting up (pp. 230), and even a phlegm eating
child (p. 333). This last incident was intended to provide comic relief at the wedding
dinner. Here, a boy secretly placed an oyster in a handkerchief that he pretended to
sneeze into and then "slurped up the glutinous mass to the horror of his
mother." These examples illustrate that if we think of man as a mere machine, then
this type of detail is simply "technical precision," but if we acknowledge man's
intrinsic dignity, then this type of detail is nothing but raw vulgarity.
Kurzweil and Science
The change of world view in 18th century Europe was, perhaps, most evident
in France. Here, the growing rejection of authority that took place in other European
nations had been accelerated by political and ecclesiastical misadventure. The political
mismanagement of King Louis XIV not only brought France into an economic crisis, but it
also caused the break down of the system of justice. The corruption and political
complicity of the French Catholic church was increasingly difficult to overlook. In
addition, Cartesian rationalism was moving through a series of stages that eventually
stripped away the religious motivations of Descartes. The influence of Voltaire, the
supreme Secular Humanist, was also being felt; first through his 'Philosophical Letters,'
denouncing religion and government; then through his "satirically evangelistic"
plays that captured the attention of the educated class. Eventually the course of events
in France led to a breakdown in confidence in all the established institutions and the
anarchy of the French Revolution was the inevitable result.
In this context the Humanist metaphor for the universe was a mechanical clock with a
distant and indifferent watch-maker god. Therefore, much of what French science was
concerned with at this time was the discovery of the various parts of the clock and its
mechanical laws. It was in this sense that the Abbé called himself a "mechanical
philosopher." French Catholicism was generally untouched by the Reformation;
therefore, there was little influence from the Biblical idea of "man created in the
image of God." When the Humanist view of a mechanistic universe came into its
ascendancy there was no viable alternative in France to employ for a definition of man.
For the 18th century Humanist, man was a machine. These ideas are seen in the Abbé's
explanation that, "Our mechanical Savior was to be a tribute to ... the other
disciples of the Watch-maker God" (p.267). Later, the Abbé's disciple carried these
ideas to the next step for Humanism; "Claude modified Newton's famous phrase: God was
not the clock maker, it was the clock maker who was God" (p. 90). This is where
Humanism ultimately must lead -- the deification of man. Voltaire actually experienced
this status when, in the last year of his life (1778), he returned to Paris and was
treated as a virtual living deity. When "Reason" is taken as the ultimate
measure for truth, since it is human reason we are referring to, we have
necessarily created a new religion with man on the throne. The French took these ideas to
heart, and in 1792 proclaimed the goddess of Reason by carrying her personification (an
actress, Demoiselle Candeille) on the shoulders of men dressed in Roman costumes into
Notre-Dame cathedral.
Humanism and Religion
At the root of this proud, self sufficient, Humanism is a basic desire to
rebel against the Creator God. Humanism has alleged that Christianity made God in man's
own image, and yet the alternative offered is to give man the place of the Creator. The
means to this end was achieved by ridicule, as Voltaire so effectively proved. It is easy
to show that all people, no matter what their beliefs, are inconsistent and at times
hypocritical. This includes Christians, atheists, Buddhists, Hindus, and Humanists.
Criticism of these inconsistencies is often easy, cheap, and profane. What is more
difficult is to consider the actual beliefs of these people and evaluate how they
correspond with the world they attempt to explain. This requires more than caricatures,
emotional tirades, and cheap shots. If Kurzweil thinks this is an accurate picture of
Humanism, then he has provided some insight into the inner workings of that mind set. If
on the other hand, he intended to provide a fair minded assessment of the problems
encountered in the 18th century world, then "me thinks he protests too much." In
spite of all the flaws of this book, there was an important detail allowed into Kurzweil's
story which reveals the outcome of Humanist ideas. Ironically, the anarchist rebellion
that the Abbé served to advance nearly cost Claude, the New Humanist, his life. In point
of fact, the French Revolution came at the cost of 40,000 lives, including many peasants,
and the entire revolutionary leadership. For France, the Age of Reason had become an Age
of Un-reason and bloody revolution.
Footnotes:
1. Allen Kurzweil, A Case of Curiosities, (New York: Ballantine Books, 1992).
Tim Nordgren, 7-22-96
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