Anywhere Out of the World (N’importe où hors de ce monde)
I. Introduction
Originally published in 1867, and included as number 48 (out of 50 total) in Petits poèmes en prose (1869). As published in the Pléiade edition it has a double title, first in English and then, in smaller letters, in French. One learns from the notes in this same edition that the words come from an 1844 poem by Thomas Hood (which you can read here: “Bridge of Sighs“) about a homeless woman who commits suicide. Baudelaire composed a literal, and non-metrical, translation of the poem1; I give a portion of the original and Baudelaire’s version of it here:
| The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river: Mad from life’s history, Glad to death’s mystery, Swift to be hurl’d— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world! | Le vent glacial de mars La faisait trembler et frissonner Mais non pas l’arche sombre Ou la rivière coulant noire. Folle du roman de la vie, Souriant au mystère de la Mort, Impatiente d’être engloutie… N’importe où, n’importe où Hors de ce monde! |
Baudelaire may have come to know of this poem through Edgar Poe (as the French call our Edgar Allan Poe), who quoted the poem in its entirely in his essay “The Poetic Principle,” published (posthumously) in 1850. This essay became a key document for Baudelaire and other symbolist poets. (I have a fancy Baudelaire may have translated Hood’s “out of the world” as hors de ce monde = “out of this world,” because a closer translation would have given a different number of syllables and a different rhythm: hors du monde.)
The hard-to-satisfy “soul” of the French poem has seemingly little in common with the young suicide of “The Bridge of Sighs”; keep in mind, however, that Baudelaire saw an affinity between the plight of the poet and that of just about any exiled, suffering, or mistreated person. The chief (and possibly, to Baudelaire, insignificant) difference is simply that, whereas the homeless woman in despair ends up at odds with the world, the poet (according to Baudelaire) is born that way.
Regarding the trip around the world we make in this poem: Baudelaire went on a sea-voyage when he was about 20 that was supposed to take him to Calcutta, but may have gotten him no farther than Mauritius; otherwise, his traveling was restricted to France and Belgium. His knowledge of the world came rather from his reading and, especially, his knowledge of painting (see the reference to Holland in this poem, and the two “Invitation au voyage” poems, one in the Fleurs du mal and one in Petits poèmes en prose).
For the person learning to read French: a few words in this poem are not so very common (un poêle, se ragaillarder, le végétal, béatifier, un engourdissement), but just about everything else is worth committing to your permanent word-hoard.
II. The Poem in French
Cette vie est un hôpital où chaque malade est possédé du désir de changer de lit. Celui-ci voudrait souffrir en face du poêle, et celui-là croit qu’il guérirait à côté de la fenêtre.
Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas, et cette question de déménagement en est une que je discute sans cesse avec mon âme.
« Dis-moi mon âme, pauvre âme refroidie, que penserais-tu d’habiter Lisbonne? Il doit y faire chaud et tu t’y ragaillardirais comme un lézard. Cette ville est au bord de l’eau; on dit qu’elle est bâtie en marbre et que le peuple y a une telle haine du végétal, qu’il arrache tous les arbres. Voilà un paysage fait selon ton goût, un paysage fait avec la lumière et le minéral et le liquide pour les réfléchir! »
Mon âme ne répond pas.
« Puisque tu aimes tant le repos, avec le spectacle du mouvement, veux-tu venir habiter la Hollande, cette terre béatifiante? Peut-être te divertiras-tu dans cette contrée dont tu as souvent admiré l’image dans les musées. Que penserais-tu de Rotterdam, toi qui aimes les forêts de mâts et les navires amarrés au pied des maisons. »
Mon âme reste muette.
« Batavia te sourirait peut-être davantage, nous y trouverions l’esprit de l’Europe marié à la beauté tropicale. »
Pas un mot. – Mon âme serait-elle morte?
« En es-tu donc venue à ce point d’engourdissement que tu ne te plaises que dans ton mal? S’il en est ainsi, fuyons vers les pays qui sont les analogies de la Mort. – Je tiens notre affaire, pauvre âme! nous ferons nos malles pour Tornéo. Allons plus loin encore, à l’extrême bout de la Baltique; encore plus loin de la vie, si c’est possible; installons-nous au pôle. Là le soleil ne frise qu’obliquement la terre, et les lentes alternatives de la lumière et de la nuit suppriment la variété et augmentent la monotonie, cette moitié du néant… Là, nous pourrons prendre de longs bains de ténèbres cependant que, pour nous divertir les aurores boréales nous enverront de temps en temps leurs gerbes roses, comme des reflets d’un feu d’artifice de l’enfer! »
Enfin, mon âme fait explosion et sagement elle me crie: « N’importe où ! n’importe où! pourvu que ce soit hors de ce monde! »
III. The Poem Glossed
Cette vie est un hôpital où chaque malade est possédé du désir de changer de lit. Celui-ci voudrait souffrir en face du poêle, et celui-là croit qu’il guérirait à côté de la fenêtre.
où – The word here is not an interrogative adverb, but a relative adverb (see the French Language topic: The Relative Adverbs). It can be translated here as “where” or as “in which” (= dans lequel); I prefer the latter.
changer de – When the French want to replace an item with another item of the same kind, they use changer de followed directly by the noun in the singular:
changer de nom, d’adresse, de chapeau, de train, de voiture,…(to change names, addresses, hats, trains, cars,…)
The idea is that it is the subject of the verb changes, with regard to the noun following de.
J’ai changé d’adresse. = I have changed. In what regard? With regard to my address.
Note the difference:
- J’ai changé de chapeau. = “I have changed hats.”
- J’ai changé mon chapeau. = “I have changed my hat = I have made an alteration to my hat.”
celui-ci…celui-là – See, if needed, the Language file the Definite Demonstrative Pronoun.
du poêle –Le poêle (from Latin pe[n]silis) means “stove for heating an interior space.” A connected meaning, now out of use, is “a room heated by such a stove,” and a poêle in such a sense is where Descartes, in the winter of 1619-1620, had the fundamental intuition of his mathematical approach to things that has made such a big difference in all our lives. La poêle, meantime, from Latin patella, means “frying pan.” Both are pronounced, somewhat irregularly, as [pwal] (or [pwɑ:l]), in other words the same as le poil (a hair, particularly non-cranial). Cf. the pronunciation of la moelle (marrow): [mwal].
Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas, et cette question de déménagement en est une que je discute sans cesse avec mon âme.
bien – See Language file Bien. II. “Fine, Nice.”
là où – Literally, “there where,” though in English often “where” by itself is enough.
- Là où je vois un problème, c’est dans votre énumération des méthodes à employer. ([There] Where I see a problem is in your enumeration of the methods to be used.)
- « Car là où est ton trésor, là aussi sera ton cœur. » (“[There] Where your treasure is, there also will be your heart.”) –Matthew 6:21
In the present case, however, the là perhaps does need to appear in some form; see the translation below.
cette question…en est une – In a situation like the one in this sentence, French does not like to use un, une (or any other numerical adjective) by itself with the noun missing. So, to say something like–
“This question is one that intrigues many people”
—you have to complete the une by placing the pronominal adverb en (meaning “of them” = “of all possible questions”) in front of the verb:
Cette question en est une qui intrigue bien des gens.
discute – A bit of a false friend: † (faux ami). It means to consider (whether by one person or by more than one) opposing views on a topic. Hence, it can, and very often does, mean: “to argue.”
« Dis-moi mon âme, pauvre âme refroidie, que penserais-tu d’habiter Lisbonne? Il doit y faire chaud et tu t’y ragaillardirais comme un lézard. Cette ville est au bord de l’eau; on dit qu’elle est bâtie en marbre et que le peuple y a une telle haine du végétal, qu’il arrache tous les arbres. Voilà un paysage fait selon ton goût, un paysage fait avec la lumière et le minéral et le liquide pour les réfléchir! »
Il doit y faire chaud – On the use of devoir to express probability see Language file Devoir. Part III.B.
arrache – The first meaning of arracher is to uproot a plant (from Latin eradicare); by extension it has come to mean tearing a thing by force away from whatever it is attached to. It is the action a dentist performs on teeth (appropriately, since teeth have roots). An expression I seem to come across fairly often is travailler d’arrache-pied, meaning “to work indefatigably”; an explanation (implausible, to my mind) I find on the internet is this: the idea is you are working so hard, it is as if you are trying to defy the laws of gravity, by tearing your feet off the ground they are planted on.
avec la lumière et le minéral et le liquide – Standard grammar would call for partitive articles here: avec de la lumière et du minéral et du liquide (see, if desired, the Language file on Partitive Articles). But Baudelaire has seen fit to do otherwise, and one can’t second-guess the poet.
Mon âme ne répond pas.
« Puisque tu aimes tant le repos, avec le spectacle du mouvement, veux-tu venir habiter la Hollande, cette terre béatifiante? Peut-être te divertiras-tu dans cette contrée dont tu as souvent admiré l’image dans les musées. Que penserais-tu de Rotterdam, toi qui aimes les forêts de mâts et les navires amarrés au pied des maisons. »
le spectacle – The most general meaning of the French word is: anything interesting to look at. It can thus mean, as it does here, the sight of goings-on in a city or a port while one is comfortably seated nearby. It can also mean, of course, “a show,” one in which what you see is an important part of the entertainment. It does not have the limited meaning that “spectacle” usually does in English.
Mon âme reste muette.
« Batavia te sourirait peut-être davantage, nous y trouverions l’esprit de l’Europe marié à la beauté tropicale. »
Batavia – The Dutch colonial-era name for Jakarta, capital of Indonesia. The speaker is still supposing that what the “soul” needs is someplace warmer.
sourirait – A literal translation for Batavia te sourirait will hardly do. Sourire (to smile) is in such a case a somewhat arch alternative for plaire (please, suit). Conversational
Ça te sourit?
Could be rendered as:
“Does that tickle your fancy?”
marié – French frequently uses marié (wedded) and allié (allied) to describe when two quite different things are closely and artfully joined.
Pas un mot. – Mon âme serait-elle morte?
Mon âme serait-elle morte? – On this use of the conditional, see the Language file Conditional Mood. Part IID. Distancing Function.
« En es-tu donc venue à ce point d’engourdissement que tu ne te plaises que dans ton mal? S’il en est ainsi, fuyons vers les pays qui sont les analogies de la Mort. – Je tiens notre affaire, pauvre âme! nous ferons nos malles pour Tornéo. Allons plus loin encore, à l’extrême bout de la Baltique; encore plus loin de la vie, si c’est possible; installons-nous au pôle. Là le soleil ne frise qu’obliquement la terre, et les lentes alternatives de la lumière et de la nuit suppriment la variété et augmentent la monotonie, cette moitié du néant… Là, nous pourrons prendre de longs bains de ténèbres cependant que, pour nous divertir les aurores boréales nous enverront de temps en temps leurs gerbes roses, comme des reflets d’un feu d’artifice de l’enfer! »
En es-tu donc venue à ce point d’engourdissement – For this use of the adverbial pronoun en, see the French Language topic en venir à (= en arriver à).
…que tu ne te plaise que dans ton mal? – Why is the verb plaise in the present subjunctive (present indicative would be tu te plais)? Because of the doubt expressed in the preceding part of the sentence: the point d’engourdissement is imagined to be so great, that it is much to be wondered a) if the “soul” could have reached it, or even b) if such a point exists. See, if it seems opportune to do so, the Language file French Subjunctive, Main Uses. Although the present case does not involve a relative clause as such, you might nevertheless consult in particular Part III. Subjunctive in Relative Clauses.
S’il en est ainsi – An idiomatic use of the adverbial pronoun en, meaning something like: “If this is the way things are.” For this and other such curious uses of en, see the Language File: The Adverbial Pronoun en: Its Odder Uses.
Tornéo – Presumably = Tornio, a city in Finland, facing Sweden to the West. It is located at the mouth of the River Torne, where it empties into the Gulf of Bothnia. If this is the place Baudelaire has in mind, it is odd that he next says:
Allons plus loin encore, à l’extrême bout de la Baltique – because at Tornio we are already at the extreme northern point of the Baltic. His geography seems to be somewhat at fault here. (Unless, rather improbably, what is meant here is: “Let’s go farther still [than where we are now, at] the extreme end of the Baltic.”)
Là le soleil ne frise qu’obliquement la terre – Remember that the que of ne…que excludes from the negation only what immediately follows the que. See the topic Translating Ne…que into English and, if necessary the entire Language file Ne…que and What You Can Do with It.
suppriment – Supprimer is related to our English “to suppress” (both come from the Latin supprimo supprimere suppressi suppressus), but it is often better translated by “remove, do away with.”
cependant que – Do not think of cependant, the usual meaning of which is “however,” but of pendant = “during.” See the French Language topic pendre.
leurs gerbes roses – The first reference of une gerbe is vegetable: “a sheaf” (bundle of wheat stalks) or “a spray” (bouquet) of flowers. The shape is important: the long pieces held closely together at the bottom and middle, then spreading apart in all directions at the top. It is then applied to things in motion: a spray of water (as in a fountain = un jet d’eau), or the shape taken by fireworks or other explosives.
Enfin, mon âme fait explosion et sagement elle me crie: « N’importe où ! n’importe où! pourvu que ce soit hors de ce monde! »
sagement – The first English meaning given for sage is “wise,” but “wisely” is not a good translation for sagement here. Keep in mind that a small French child is regularly admonished to be sage.
N’importe où – See the French Language topic N’importe Expressions.
hors – You might use this opportunity to familiarize yourself with expressions using hors and its derviatives dehors and hormis. The h is “aspirate” (does not allow elision or liaison).
IV. The Poem Translated
| Cette vie est un hôpital où chaque malade est possédé du désir de changer de lit. Celui-ci voudrait souffrir en face du poêle, et celui-là croit qu’il guérirait à côté de la fenêtre. | This life is a hospital in which each sick person is possessed with the desire to change beds. This fellow would like to suffer facing the stove; that one thinks he will get better next to the window. |
| Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas, et cette question de déménagement en est une que je discute sans cesse avec mon âme. | It seems to me that I would always be fine in the place where I am not, and this question of new lodgings is one that I debate ceaselessly with my soul. |
| « Dis-moi mon âme, pauvre âme refroidie, que penserais-tu d’habiter Lisbonne? Il doit y faire chaud et tu t’y ragaillardirais comme un lézard. Cette ville est au bord de l’eau; on dit qu’elle est bâtie en marbre et que le peuple y a une telle haine du végétal, qu’il arrache tous les arbres. Voilà un paysage fait selon ton goût, un paysage fait avec la lumière et le minéral et le liquide pour les réfléchir! » | “Tell me, my soul, poor, chilled soul, what would you think of living in Lisbon? It must be warm there, and you would perk up like a lizard. This city is on the edge of the water; they say it is built of marble and that its inhabitants2 have such a hatred of plant-life that they uproot all the trees. Now there3 is a landscape according to your taste, a landscape made with light and mineral and liquid to reflect them.” |
| Mon âme ne répond pas. | My soul does not answer. |
| « Puisque tu aimes tant le repos, avec le spectacle du mouvement, veux-tu venir habiter la Hollande, cette terre béatifiante? Peut-être te divertiras-tu dans cette contrée dont tu as souvent admiré l’image dans les musées. Que penserais-tu de Rotterdam, toi qui aimes les forêts de mâts et les navires amarrés au pied des maisons. » | “Since you are so fond of rest combined with the view of movement, do you want to come live in Holland, that beatific4 land? Perhaps you will be diverted by this region, whose image you have so often admired in museums. What would you think of Rotterdam, you who love forests of masts and ships made fast at the foot of houses.” |
| Mon âme reste muette. | My soul remains silent. |
| « Batavia te sourirait peut-être davantage, nous y trouverions l’esprit de l’Europe marié à la beauté tropicale. » | “Batavia would perhaps be more to your liking. We would find there the spirit of Europe joined to tropical beauty.” |
| Pas un mot. – Mon âme serait-elle morte? | Not a word. – Could my soul possibly have died? |
| « En es-tu donc venue à ce point d’engourdissement que tu ne te plaises que dans ton mal? S’il en est ainsi, fuyons vers les pays qui sont les analogies de la Mort. – Je tiens notre affaire, pauvre âme! nous ferons nos malles pour Tornéo. Allons plus loin encore, à l’extrême bout de la Baltique; encore plus loin de la vie, si c’est possible; installons-nous au pôle. Là le soleil ne frise qu’obliquement la terre, et les lentes alternatives de la lumière et de la nuit suppriment la variété et augmentent la monotonie, cette moitié du néant… Là, nous pourrons prendre de longs bains de ténèbres cependant que, pour nous divertir les aurores boréales nous enverront de temps en temps leurs gerbes roses, comme des reflets d’un feu d’artifice de l’enfer! » | “Have you gotten to such a point of numbness that you are pleased only in your sickness? If that’s how things are, let us fly toward the countries that are the analogies of death. – I have it, poor soul! We will pack our bags for Tornio. Let’s go even farther, to the extreme end of the Baltic; even farther from life, if that is possible; let’s take up residence at the pole. There the sun grazes the earth only obliquely, and the slow alternation of light and night abolish variety and increase monotony, that other half of nothingness… There, we will be able to take long baths of darkness, the whiles that, to amuse us, aurora borealises send us from time to time their rosy sprays, like the reflection of a hellish firework!” |
| Enfin, mon âme fait explosion et sagement elle me crie: « N’importe où ! n’importe où! pourvu que ce soit hors de ce monde! » | At last my soul explodes and screams at me judiciously: “Anywhere! Anywhere! Provided it is out of this world!” |
- Pages 1498-1501 of the Pléiade edition.[↩]
- Literally “the people” (le peuple), but a singular noun, and referring here most likely to all the inhabitants of the city.[↩]
- Literally, “Behold!” (Voilà).[↩]
- “Beatfic” taken in its original sense, that is, “beatifying.”[↩]
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It’s not Tornio, but Borneo
According to the 1961 Pléiade edition of the Œuvres complètes of Baudelaire (p304), the form is “Tornéo.” “Bornéo” is a misprint or misinterpretation that you occasionally find in online or print versions of this poem. It’s an easy misstep to take, given that Tornéo/Tornio is so little known, whereas Borneo is, comparatively, very famous; also, the poet has just been speaking of successively warmer places (Lisbonne, Batavia). However, just in this paragraph (beginning En es-tu venue…) he has begun turning to increasingly cold regions (Tornio, “the extreme end of the Baltic,” the North Pole), and so the tropical Borneo would really not fit in here.
“Perhaps you will be diverted by this region”
How about “entertained” or “pleased” . “Diverted by” strikes me as Franglish
Either of your suggestions works, it seems to me. I do believe that contained within the original expression (“te divertiras-tu”) is the idea of being distracted from one’s preoccupying malaise (cf. Pascal’s concept of “divertissement”), and I wanted to include that aspect. [Check out the TLFi entry for “divertir” here.] —I can see that my “Perhaps you will be diverted” may sound a little too posh, but in fact “diverted” is no more Franglish than “entertained” or “pleased,” in the sense that all three are words English has borrowed from French. (Admittedly the latter two have higher frequency.)
Surely it should be forests of masts found at Rotterdam, and therefore “mats” would be “mâts”?
Pedantry is my speciality.
Indeed, I left out the circumflex accent when I typed mâts, perhaps because I had just included one in typing forêts, which would be a kind of haplography, I suppose. I will correct the error.
Great site!
FWIW, this prose poem appears, illuminated like a sacred text, along with two other Baudelaire pieces, as part of the decadent/sacrilegious decoration of the protagonist’s home in Huysmans’s À REBOURS (end of first chapter).