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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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