The Three Dots…
Rigodon, Beethoven and
Dante!
« Céline se veut chroniqueur ; mais il décrit l’Allemagne
de la débâcle comme Dante visitait le cercles de son Enfer. »
François Gibault[1]
After
first treating the novels D’un château l’autre ( 1957) and Nord (
1964) by Louis Ferdinand Céline, finally I wish to engage with the third and
final instalment of what has come to be called his German Trilogy Rigodon (
1969) and which was eventually published sometime after his death ( 1961) and
which he finished writing on the very eve of that day. The above quote by
Maître Gibault is extremely pertinent for the present work as I will be
investigating the very formal significance of Dante on the French poet,
particularly in respect to his infamous three dots…Having already made
reference to the significance of the number 3 and the element of parallelism at
work in the previous two novels, in Rigodon, the third volume in the
trilogy, I will be exploring the very greater significance of the number three
in respect to the trilogy in general, making a correspondence with the piano
sonatas of Beethoven, and in particular number 23 in F Minor, Op 57, Appassionata,
the sonatas were a particular favourite of Céline’s, this is well documented.
But, also, how the three points, of which so much has been written of, are both
a stylistic innovation in both formal structure, such as terza rima for
Dante in the Commedia, but also in terms of content. In other words, a
thematic correspondence of the content of Céline’s three novels can be made
with the thematic structure of Dante’s epic poem. Rigodon corresponding
with Paradiso, Nord with Purgatorio and the hell of
Sigmaringen, as portrayed in D’un château l’autre, finally finding its
counterpart in Inferno; or, conversely in Beethovenian terms – Allegro
assai, Adante con moto and Allegro ma non tropo when equating
Céline’s trilogy with Beethoven’s Appaissonata, each of his novels
corresponding with a particular movement in musical terms, and, this time in
chronological order.
To
begin, we must first look at the title Rigodon which is the name given
to a ‘lively dance in 2/4 time’ according to the Oxford English Dictionary.
Spelling in English. However, will differ, in English it is spelled Rigadoon,
but there are also other variants, Rigaudon, the dance has origins in Spain and
even the Philippines! So, taking the title on face value, Céline would
apparently be inviting the reader to dance, with him leading, bien sur ,
and taking us through the hellish environs of Nazi Germany at the end of WW2.
This is very célinienne, the noun form in English is uncommon, as it hints at
the grotesque element in the writings of Céline, and so would be a good
indication that we are entering into the spirit of the work, a quick dance
through war torn Germany, and it also indicates the tempo of the writing which
is another aspect of the book that we will also be looking at. So, this is returning yet again to the
emphasis on music and rhythm which we have touched upon again and again in the
writing of Céline, but particularly in the German Trilogy. And, while we are
already discussing this aspect, I should like to reference, before I go any
further, a recording of Céline dictating a passage from Nord to his
secretary[2].
In
the previous two chapters in which I have treated Nord, and indeed when
analysing the orality in D’un château l’autre also, I have emphasised
the iambic pentameter which is at play in some of the most oral sections of the
books compareding the novels to the medieval French literary works such as chanson
de geste and Le Roman de la Rose, we have seen how such literary
figures such as Francois Villon and Louise Labé have also been referenced and
how Céline, in general, is always very conscious of his place in the great
French literary tradition and how he sees himself essentially as a chronicler
of his time, just as the medieval French poets chronicled the historic events
in epic poems chronicling their own times in the spirit of Homer and Virgil
before them. And in this recording of Céline, we can hear quite distinctly the
writer intoning the correct stress and rhythm of his prose, reading with a
respect to each syllable so that he sounds as if he is reading from an epic
poem, and this recording is an invaluable testament to this fact. While
listening to it, I was reminded of William Burroughs rather derogatory comment
on contemporary poetry, which he considered to be merely ‘lazy prose[3].’
Indeed,
we can even push the case further, must, I would hazard, in relation to the
three books which make up the German Trilogy as there is a very strong case to
be made that they could be seen as three great movements, musical movements
that is, like in a sonata by Beethoven which he used to enjoy listening to very
much[4].
The rhythm and tempo of the first instalment, D’un château l’autre being
akin to the first movement of the Appassionata, piano sonata No. 23 in F
Minor, Op. 57; Allegro assai, being the recommended tempo. Just as
Beethoven introduces the themes in the sonata, playing variation after
variation, so too does Céline paraphrasing again and again, using parallelism
as we have already seen extensively again and again. The piano sonata is such
an intimate musical form much more so than the piano concerto as the pianist is
playing solo just as the writer composes on his own, which is not to say that
there is no orchestration. Nord in sharp contrast, then, is much slower
in tempo, this is very noticeable to the reader so much so that it is even
distracting after the rather quick tempo of the previous work just as the
second movement in the Apassionata ( andante con moto) slows down
to a moderate pace. Rigodon, then, as if to underline the musical nature
of the whole trilogy signals to the reader in the very title itself the rather
quick tempo of the book, picking back up after the epic second movement of the
overall work. It is a theory not without some justification[5],
and it helps to add a truly unique aspect into Céline’s writing, which can only
benefit to the overall experience of the reading but also can shed light on the
very unique musical correspondence overall to the literary arts in general and
which are often overlooked.
Having
first commented on the formal musical elements of Rigodon, I should like
now to move on to some other elements. The note of thanks from Lucette
Destouches to Maître François Gibault also bears mentioning, as the book was
published after the author’s death. In fact, many years later. Céline died in
1961, apparently the day after he finished the novel[6] so
there was a lot of work to do to get the manuscript, which was written by hand,
ready for publication. Finally, the book’s dedication is also quite noteworthy
– Aux animaux ! In the last few years of his life, Céline lived in his
house in Meudon surrounded by animals. Stray dogs and cats, and also Toto his
pet parrot who even appears in the book just as Bébert, his cat, figures
throughout the trilogy and which was given to his wife and he by the actor Le
Vigan who accompanied them on their wartime odyssey. The fact that the book is
dedicated to animals, in general, is a reflection on his rather dire assessment
of humanity and this becomes all too apparent as you progress into the novel.
For
example, as soon as you open page one of the book you enter into Céline’s house
in Meudon, an imposing three story Louis- Philippe style pavilion dating from
the nineteen century[7],
and there he is holding court with Robert Poulet the Belgian literary critic
who, like Céline, was charged with collaborating with the Nazis during the war,
yet, unlike Céline, was sentenced to death after the war but was eventually
acquitted and lived out his days in the Paris region. So, a man who never
renounced his far -right views, yet even he is found protesting at Céline’s
ranting which is basically the ranting you might hear from any popular far
right commentator on society today, and this is what makes Rigodon from
the very first page so immediately accessible and relevant. After first
praising Ninon de Laclos ( 1620 – 1705), the author and courtesan who
encouraged both Molière and Voltaire, he goes into a two page rant on the
demise of the white man.
Comprenez, condamné à mort! tous les sangs
des races de couleurs sont « dominants », jaunes
rouges ou parme…le sang des blancs est « dominé »…
toujours ! les enfants des belles unions mixtes seront
jaunes, noirs, rouges, jamais blancs, jamais plus
blancs !...passe muscade ! avec toutes les bénédic-
tions ![8]
This
is Céline the pamphleteer, the polemicist, the misanthropic hermit shut off
from the world in “Villa Matïou” surrounded by his menagerie railing against
the world. But, from the perspective of someone living two decades into the 21st
first century, with the rise of the far right gaining a foothold in almost
every country in Europe, Europe which is witnessing war on a similar scale to
the war that was waged during the second world war, and one of the most
pressing issues of our times being immigration, Céline in these first pages of Rigodon
is, far from being some historic figure from the past, appears eerily
enough to be an all too familiar figure. When one listens to the discourse of
any of the populist leaders to today, be it Trump in the USA, the AFD in
Germany, Marine Le Pen in France, Victor Orbán in Hungary, Giorgia Meloni in
Italy, and Geert Wilders who has just won the majority in Holland for his Party
of Freedom, all of these leaders have a similar discourse and that is the tidal
wave of immigration has got to be stopped before we see the disappearance of
‘western’ culture, and what they mean by that is white culture, essentially.
The discourse is one and the same, the only difference is that Céline writes it
in black and white and for all to read and see. Louis Ferdinand Céline one of
the greatest prose stylists from the 20th century, who is right up there with
James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Marcel Proust and Franz Kafka, so his words carry
a great weight.
Vous aimez trop les paradoxes ! Céline ! les
Chinois sont antiracistes !...les noirs aussi !
This
is his far -right friend and colleague, Poulet Robert, protesting. But, Céline is adamant.
Cette fouterie! Qu’ils viennent ici seulement
un an ils baissent tout le monde ! le tour est joué !
plus un blanc ! cette race n’a jamais existé… un
« fond de teint » c’est tout ! l’homme vrai de vrai
est noir et jaune ! l’homme blanc religion métisseuse !
des religions ! juives catholiques protestantes, le
blanc est mort ! il n’existe plus ! qui croire ?[9]
This is Céline the pamphleteer, the author of Mia
Culpa ( 1936), Bagatelles pour un Massacre ( 1937) Ecole des cadavres ( 1938) and Les beau
draps ( 1941). Now,
in Céline circles in France, I have come to understand that there are two
schools of thought on this issue, the famous ‘Un génie ou un salaud?[10] ’
definition. I do not prescribe to either of these views, of course. Anyone who
has read the pamphlets and the novels of Céline will immediately recognise the
same author, one and the same. I should like to particularly single out the
very first pamphlet here Mia Culpa, which was published after the
disastrous reception of Céline’s second novel Mort et credit ( 1936).
The voice is so distinctively Céline. Here he is on the subject of man.
En deux siècles, tout fou d’orgeuil,
dilaté par la mécanique, il est devenu impossible. Tel
nous le voyons aujourd’hui, hagard, saturé, ivrogne
d’alcool, de gazoline, défiant, prétentieux, l’univers
avec un pouvoir en secondes ! Eberlué, démesuré,
irrémédiable, mouton et taureau mélangé, hyène
aussi. [11]
Bull
and lamb, mixed with a hyena too. I was very much reminded of Baudelaire when I
read this text, another French writer who like Joseph de Maistre was convinced
that man was no good. In Mia Culpa, a pamphlet Céline published on his
return from Leningrad[12]it
is absolutely vehement on the overall nature of man. To help him, Céline seeks refuge in the church.
La supériorité pratique des grandes religions
chrétiennes, c’est qu’elles doraient pas la pilule.
Les essayaient pas d’étourdir, elles cherchaient pas
l’électeur, elles sentaient pas le besoin de plaire, elles
tortillaient pas du panier. Elles saisissaient l’Homme
au berceau et lui cassaient en morceau d’autor. Elles
le rencardaient sans ambages : « Toi petit putricule
informe, tu seras jamais qu’une ordure…De naissance
tu n’est que
merde…[13]
Now,
to return to the novel, namely Rigodon ( 1969), considering the subject
matter – a train ride through the Third Reich during the last months of the
war, as witnessed by the writer himself with both his wife and cat and his best
friend. As with all men, one has to take the whole man, in order to further
differentiate the many, many parts, as was instructed by Aristotle, who had had
enough of Plato. Frédéric Vitoux, in his wonderful biography La vie de
Céline cites Céline’s first publisher Robert Denoël when he is speaking
about ‘l’auteur de Voyage’[14]mentioning
him in the same breath as both Shakespeare and Dante. This may come as some
surprise to many English speakers who may not be familiar with the French
writer, but the more I read of him the less surprised I am by such comparisons.
Let us first take the case of Dante and Céline. Staying with Vitoux, there is
an account given in Vitoux’s biography of Céline of a certain Doctor
Schillemans who worked alongside Céline in Sigmaringen and so is able to give a
very good description of Céline at this particular time. Here is the
description of Céline that Schillemans gives concerning the French writer’s
eyes.
« Il ( Céline) était grand, maigre, et ses yeux clairs,
brillants, très enfoncés dans les orbites, surmontés
d’énorme sourcils broussailleux, jetaient des lueurs
inquiétantes. Lorsqu’il vous regardait, sa pupille
avait une curieuse fixité et ses yeux semblaient ainsi
constamment vous poser des questions.[15] »
I
wanted to give this very detailed and precise description here of Céline’s eyes
here as Rigodon, in a sense, is the most immediate of all of the books
in the German trilogy and what I mean by that is that it is the most
immediately accessible in the sense that we see the events as they
unfurl with the very same eyes! This is very important to understand, the
crucial distinction that Céline makes between a writer and a chronicler[16]. I would say that in this sense Rigodon is
also the most cinematic of the books in the German Trilogy for it is the one
with the most dialogue and it is also the shortest of the three, the title
gives it a way as it is a quick lively dance basically in which Céline, over
the course of just over 300 pages[17],
describes a five -day journey mainly taken on trains starting in Ulm and going
north all the way to Hanover right on the Danish border. North is the title of
the second and the most important central section of the trilogy, over twice
the size of Rigodon, and it is, I would say, a Dantean trope, one of
many, as it signals an upward trajectory into freedom and light[18].
In this sense, Rigodon is the Paradiso of Céline’s Commedia;
D’une château l’autre and Nord being Inferno and Purgatorio
respectively.[19]
Yet, the great difference being that in Céline’s Commedia there are only
three different shades of hell, God having long since deserted man or, at
least, in Céline’s world it would certainly be the case.
The
Dantean element is also very visual, in all three works, but particularly so in
Rigodon. All of the novels are made up of little miniature portraits of
characters but because of the setting in the final novel, where most of the
action takes place on trains, the portraits are less developed as Céline has
less time to engage with them, as is the case with Dante and Virgil in the Commedia
as the journeymen are continuously travelling and so never get to spend as
much time with the characters that they are encountering as say the characters
in Nord where, as readers, we get to spend more time with the different
characters who are living in the Prussian farm at Zornhof, for example. One of
the first characters that we meet in Rigodon is the character of
l’Obersatz Haupt who is described by Céline as a Nietzschean Doctor as he
believes in natural selection when it comes to the criteria of the wounded who
will get to be placed on the train and who will not, those who survive a night
out lying in their stretchers in the snow will be put aboard the train the next
morning. The simply cruelty of the triage is the first real sign of all that is
about to happen on this apocalyptic journey set during the final months of the
war in war ravaged Germany. The great difference between the hell of Dante and
the hell of Céline, say, is the fact that Dante’s Inferno is far more
ordered and categorical. The denizens who appear in the frozen lake in canto
32, for example, have been placed there in accordance with the depravity of their
sins, it is ‘divine’ retribution, after all. In the ninth circle, Cocytus, Cain
can be found for the crime of fratricide; Count Ugolino is placed there, head
famously protruding through the frozen lake for the sin of cannibalism, he ate
his own children. So, in a way, the reader is assured that the bad will get
their deserved lot. Kharma lives! Whereas, in Céline’s hell, the hell of
modernity, we are presented with a number of characters, all minor in the sense
that we only ever meet them very temporally, as they are all mainly passengers
moving about from train to train or from station to station, and we have no
real idea of their fundamental nature, or their eventual fate. Everything, in
this sense, is arbitrary.
Nowhere
could we find better evidence of this then say the meeting with Captain
Hoffmann on a train on the way to Fürth after first passing through a tunnel
while R.A.F. Marauders are dropping phosphorous bombs high overhead, and the
train is filled with women and children, lepers, and the troops under Hoffman’s
command, standing around, will be going to Augsburg to take up the fight. The
scene is tense, compounded all the more by the confinement of the trains which
are simply overrun with people and where chaos rules. Among the chaos, this
Captain Hoffmann appears before Céline, knowing who he is and who his wife and
the actor Le Vigan are, speaking to him in French.
- Vous trois et la chat vous irez prendre le train
pour Ulm… tout de suite !...sonderzug…vous me
comprenez ? celui que devaient prendre les Baltes…
vous aurez de la place !...
quatre wagons !...vides !
Augsburg n’est pas encore detruit…écoutez-moi
bien !...environ une heure pour Ulm…là vous arri-
verrez en plein
enterrement…[20]
And then comes the intrigue, more tension. Hoffmann
speaks about the funeral of Rommell, a further casualty after the failed
putsch, and Maréchal Runstedt and a certain captain, like him, called
Lemmelrich. Hoffmann asks Céline if he will remember the name, as at the
funeral procession in Ulm Hoffmann wants Céline to approach Lemmelrich, who
will be in the company of Maréchal Runstedt at Rommell’s funeral, and he wants
Céline to give Lemmelrich a simple message when he sees him, in French, and
which is “ votre fille de Berlin va mieux”.[21]
It is a very curious part of the book as it begins to read a bit like an
espionage novel, yet with the obvious distinction of having a remarkable
atmospheric quality.
The comparisons with Dante are quite numerous, the
hellish environs for one. As François Gibault
indicates in the preface of Nord in the prestigious Pléiade collection,
which the Collection Folio reproduces, ‘Céline se veut chroniquer; mais
il décrit l’allemagne de la debacle comme Dante visitait les cercles de son
Enfer.[22]’ In Rigodon because
of the hellish violence that Céline describes, particularly in the description
of the bombing of Hanover, which I am going to focus on principally now, the
immediate parallels with Dante are of course obvious so much so that one might
even forget to mention them. Firstly, if we consider for a moment the lives of
both writers plagued as they both were by the torment of exile due to
treachery; treason and exile, themes which are bound to one another in a rather
perverse marriage, are both very strong recurrent themes in the writings of
Dante and Céline because of the unique circumstances of their lives. Dante was
of course banished from Florence for life and had a death sentence hanging over
his head for the remainder of his life in exile, it was while wandering around
Italy in such circumstances that he composed his great trilogy which was to
have the most remarkable consequences on the whole of western thinking, not
only artistically but also spiritually.
All through the Inferno, Dante describes the
many circles of hell, 9 in all, and the different sinners consigned to each:
the first circle is limbo, after the Acheron, where the pagans are held, the
second circle the lustful, the third the gluttons, the fourth the avarice and prodigals,
the fifth the sinful through anger, the sixth the heretics, the seventh circle
the violent and which contains three further sublayers, till we come to the
eight circle of hell where the fraudulent are confined and there are many
substrata. For the present purpose, I wish to go to canto 27 where the
fraudulent counsellors in war are held, as this would appear most appropriate
for our present study.The language used by Dante in the first five verses and
which introduce the canto are wholly indicative of the style of writing of the Commedia.
This is very personal, Dante, like Céline, had been caught in the politics of
his day. Both writers were engaged figures of their times, Dante held a post in
public office and became ensnared in the fierce political infighting of
medieval Florence and paid for it dearly. Céline was also a highly vocal public
figure, his political pamphlets, which sold in their thousands, as well as he
two prewar-novels, had made him a very recognisable public figure and, like
Dante, whose political views were well known. Here are the first five verses of
canto 27 of the Inferno.
Già era dritta in sù la fiamma e queta
per non dir più, e già da noi sen gia
con la licenza del dolce poeta,
quand’ un’altra, che dietro a lei venìa,
ne fece volger li occhi a la sua cima
per un confuso suon che fuor n’uscia.
Come’l bue cicilian, che mugghiò prima
col pianto di colui-e ciò fu dritto-
che l’avea temperato con sua lima,
mugghiava con la voce de l’afflitto,
sì che, con tutto che fosse di rame,
pur el pareva del dolore traffito :
così, per non aver via né forame
del principio nel foco, in suo linguaggio
si convertïan le paroe grame.[23]
And just as Dante in his ‘divine comedy’ speaks to the
creatures in torment twisting in the flames of hell, so too does Céline, in the
same manner, describe the inferno that was Hanover bombed by the allies during
those last few months of WW2.
Je me dis: Lili, je te retrouve, t’es là !...Bébert
aussi !... oh, mais les sirènes…que des sirènes !...autant
qu’à Berlin…ici ils devraient avoir fini, assez rata-
tiné tout !...enfin, à peu près…ou alors !...mmuch !...
alerte encore…d’un bout du clair de lune à l’autre…
j’oubliais de vous dire, il faisait un de ces clairs de
lune !...mmuch !...brang !...braoum !...des
bombes…
des bombes, oui !...elles pouvaient écraser quoi ?
tiens, et Felipe ?...où il était ? je demande à Lili…
c’est lui qui me répond, Felipe, je l’avais pas vu..
pas loin pourtant, là, à deux pas… [24]
Firstly, what strikes one immediately about the
passage above by Céline is the incredible musical quality of the composition,
particularly when contrasted with the Italian passage by Dante. As we have
already mentioned in previous chapters, Céline is hugely inspired by the epic
style of medieval French poets frequently referencing them in his
correspondences with friends who are interested in his writing in personal
letters, and we have even heard him reciting passages of Nord in keeping
with the prosody and cadence of the old poems of the Chanson de geste and
the Roman de la rose. The same French literary tradition was familiar to
Dante of course, he mentions Arnault Daniel in Canto 26 in the Purgatorio
where on the seventh terrace, along with the other examples of the lustful, he
awaits clemency[25].
The second thing that both poets share is that they
are both eye witnesses to history, both men having been caught up in the
politics of their time and both who suffered greatly because of their own
personal experience, which they both want to give their version in their
literary output, just like Francois Villon, James Joyce and so many other
writers besides. In Frédéric Vitoux’s La vie de Céline, Lucette
Destouches, the wife of Céline, testifies many years later in interviews with
the biographer how they had encountered this Italian man, Felipe, in Hanover
and who had joined them while they were walking around the city. So, the events
which Céline describes in Rigodon are historically accurate. The Commedia
by Dante is full of references to Florentines who were either, according to
Dante, on the right or wrong side of history. There is a verse by the Polish
poet Wislawa Szymborska which would seem to best put into words the phenomenon
that I am trying to describe here.
The joy of
writing.
The power of
preserving.
Revenge of a
mortal hand.[26]
Céline is standing on one of the platforms in the
train station in Hanover, there are people from every part of the region
standing alongside of him, he even recognises some English speakers there who
ran an English school, it turns out. That is when they encounter Felipe, the
Italian who is trying to get back to his employer. We are in familiar ground
again, Céline, the doctor, is describing the world of ordinary everyday
citizens and how they are being affected by the war. This is how the German
Trilogy by Louis Ferdinand Céline is so different to other accounts of the war
as he is primarily concerned with describing the world of ordinary everyday
citizens and who are caught up in the extreme violence which is targeting them.
tous ces gens sur les plates-
formes, là autour discutent beaucoup, mais pas un
qui se fait un feu…pourtant c’est pas le feu qui
manque, cent mètres plus loin, toutes les rues, à
gauche à droite, je crois tout Hanovre…des feux de
fins de maisons…il faut avoir vu…chaque maison
juste en son milieu…entre ce qu’étaient ses quatre
murs, une flamme qui pivote, jaune…violette…tour-
billonne…s’échappe !...aux nuages !...danse…dis-
paraît…reprend…l’âme de chaque maison…une
farandole de couleurs, des premiers décombres à tout
là- bas…au loin très loin…et fumées…le briquetier lui ce qui
l’intéressait c’était de faire un feu pour nous là…
un petit feu…
-Je m’appelle Felipe…[27]
Again, it is another sign of Céline’s modernity, the
carpet bombing campaign of the Allies, particularly the R.A.F. under the
Marshall of the Air Force Arthur “ Bomber” Harriss. While the Americans were
more interested in precision bombing key industrial hubs and cities, the R.A.F.
under Harriss were following a more indiscriminate policy of what became known
as carpet or blanket bombing of civilian cities, Dresden and Cologne and
Hamburg suffered the most, but Hanover endured considerable bombing also, as Céline
was to witness first hand. Céline reminds us in the novel that the events that
he is describing happened almost 25 or 27 years ago, which is not entirely true[28]but
we take his point, the events he is about to narrate are so unforgettable that
it is as if they happened only yesterday.
So, in Rigodon, just over halfway into the
novel, Céline describes what it was like for a civilian to be caught up in a
bombing raid of a city in Germany during the last months of the war and he is
hit by a brick on the head. So, he is concussed. This is where Céline is like
Joyce, so if the character is concussed the writing must be concussed too, and
so we are reading the description of the bombing as someone who is suffering
from concussion would see it. Technically, this is a very difficult thing to do
and this is when he resorts to music.
Maintenant là revenons aux faits…sur le remblai
où nous sommes on peut y voir comme en plein
jour…claire de lune ardent, si j’ose dire…soleil bien
calme de fin d’automne…uuuuh ! oh mais une petite
variété !...ci !...la !...shrapnels !...aux
nuages ! et entre…
bouquets d’obus…vraiment le grandiose panorama…
selon moi !...et tout ceci dans la musique… [29]
Anyone who has experienced what it is like to be in an
accident will understand the kind of experience that Céline is attempting to
describe, when large quantities of adrenaline are kicking in and one is
experiencing shock of a profound kind and so everything appears in a kind of
slow motion, this is exactly the kind of delirium that Céline is attempting to
portray and in order for him to do so, he uses the analogy of music.
je cherchais un air…un accompagnement…je
demande à Lili… »t’entends rien ? »…si !...elle
entends les sirènes…c’est tout !...moi seul alors cette
musique ?...Felipe ?...il écoute…il entend pas de
musique non plus, que des dégelées de mines et
plein de sirènes…uuuuh ! comment se fait-il ?...moi
pourtant pas musicien…du tout…il me passe des
airs…je dirais même des airs somptueux…[30]
A sumptuous music is the term Céline uses to describe
the musical air that he alone seems privy to hear while the bombs are exploding
all around them on the streets of Hanover. Now, a funny thing happens in this
chapter where Céline is describing his experience of the bombing, remember he
has already signalled to us that his memory is rather faulty when he states
that the events that he is describing happened over twenty five plus years ago.
He is recalling the events 15 or so years later in his house at Meudon where
his wife Lucette, Lili in the novels, gives dance lessons to the neighbouring
children up on the first floor of their 19th century house. Céline,
or Doctor Destouches rather, has his medical office on the ground floor and it
is here also where he writes on his consultation table. So while he is writing
about his experiences during the bombardment of Hanover in late March, ( 28th?),
1945, he is actually sitting down in the basement in his office in his house in
Meudon while there is a piano accompanying the dance lessons which are taking
place above his head!
Et voilá, je me suis décidé… je suis monté chez les
demoiselles, les danseuses là-haut…moi-même, à
onze heures du soir…j’étais sûr, je l’avais entendu !...
c’était assez, trois…quatre notes…personne là-
haut, onze heures du soir…je savais ce que je vou-
lais…symphonies !...j’effeuille les disques…y en
a !...vous me croirez si vous voulez je trouve presque
tout de suite…celles qu’il me faut…oui !...non !...
oui !...un clavier maintenant ! l’autre bout du stu-
dio…peut-être d’y avoir pensé si longtemps je
tapote…ca y est !...presque juste, oui !...oui !...le
la d’un clavier comme il est…[31]
Now, he hears a piano and he can just about make out the
four notes, and Céline gives them. The actual notes that he thinks that he has
heard.
J’ai les quatre notes…sol dièze ! sol ! la dièze !...si !...[32]
These notes are G sharp, followed by G flat followed
by A sharp and B. The context is a dance studio and so the kind of piano music
that would be played by a pianist during a classical dance lesson. The first
note is G sharp, when I looked up what it might be I got the following…[33] The
cascading notes of Chopin’s Polonaise in G sharp minor are sumptuous
indeed.
[1] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Nord, Collection Folio,
Gallimard, Paris, 2022, p. 8.
[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuBnTHU37xY&list=FLxVsxhNNWzDxuaGt8j-NVXg
Céline dictant un extrait de Nord à sa secrétaire
Marie Canavaggio, 1960.
[3]
“Well, as soon as you move
away from the real poetic forms, rhyme, compass, etc., there is no line between
prose and poetry. In my opinion, many poets are simple writers of lazy prose.”
https://www.beatnikshoes.com/en/a-word-from-william-burroughs-about-literature-and-life/
[4]
Both Henri Godard and Marc
-Édouard Nabe testify to the fact that Céline used to listen to both the piano
sonatas of Beethoven and the quartets during the summers of 1937- 38, his only
‘moments de détente’ according to his wife Lucette Almansor.
Gomez, Yannick: D’un musicien l’autre, De
Céline à Beethoven, La Nouvelle Librairie, Paris, 2023, pp. 82-83.
[5]
On a personal note, I have
always thought of writing a novel in three great movements, in fact I am
currently working on such a book and my research into Céline is also, in a
sense, laying the groundwork. Reading Yannick Gomez’s study, referenced above, a
classical pianist and composer himself and a writer, helped me to better
comprehend the scale of the enterprise.
[6]
Céline’s last letter is dated
the 30th, June, and it is addressed to his editor, Gaston Gallimard.
In the letter, he informs Gallimard that he has just completed his new novel
which he writes in capitals “ RIGODON” before then informing his editor that he
wishes the advance to go from 1000 French Francs to 1500. He died the following
day, the 1st of July, the very day after that he finished his last
novel.
Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Lettres à la N.R.F., Choix
1931-1961, Collection Folio, Gallimard, Paris, pp. 217-218.
[7]
The house was called “Villa
Maïtou” and the address is 25 Route des Gardes, Meudon-sur Seine. I visited it
with my son and his girlfriend last year and there was some work being done in
the garden there. My understanding is that it was sold to a private vendor as
the government, bowing to pressure, declined to purchase it for the state,
which just shows you how Céline continues to be a figure of shame, even today.
I think that this is incredibly unjust, and it is one of the reasons, there
were many, why I felt compelled to write this book. Having said that, Samuel
Beckett’s house, Cooldrinagh ( Foxrock, County Dublin) also sold to a private
vendor. That is another thing both these writers share.
[9] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Rigodon, Collection
Folio, Gallimard, Paris, 2022, pp.18, 19.
[10] In his article Un genie ou un salaud ? Louis- Ferdinand Céline ( link below) published in The
Times of Israel, (December, 27th, 2020 ) Maurice-Reuben Hayoun,
a Professor in Medieval Philosophy, asks the question “ Bastard or Genius?” in
the title of his two part article on the subject of Céline’s antisemitism. And
the question is posed in the classic one or the other, as is typical of such
polemics and, of course, we typically only hear from one side or the other
pleading their case. Not so Hayoun as he is that rare man these days, in other
words being a specialist in philosophical matters he is able to distinguish
what the real question is here as it is an age old one in philosophy – the
parts or the whole?
https://frblogs.timesofisrael.com/un-genie-ou-un-salaud-louis-ferdinand-celine/
[11] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Mea Culpa, The Savoiseien
Et Baglis, Ex Libris Lenculus, 2nd janvier, 2019, p21.
[12]
There is a very
interesting discourse put out by Céline himself and which is then taken up by
his supporters such as Michel Sollers, that after the success of Voyage au bout
de la nuit (
1932), when all the left, from Trotsky to Sartre, held him up as the writer
of his generation and then with the publication of Mort et Crédit some four
years later, he is virulently attacked and abandoned by the left. So, Mia
Culpa, in this context, is a pamphlet written by a man who goes to Russia,
apparently to collect the rights of his books which have sold there, and he
writes a damning account of the Soviet communist system. The Left, apparently,
never forgave him. It’s a very compelling argument, but of course, as with all
things to do with LFC, it is but one side to the story. Bull
and lamb, remember!
[13] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Mea Culpa, The Savoiseien
Et Baglis, Ex Libris Lenculus, 2nd janvier, 2019, p. 20.
[14] Vitoux, Frédéric: La vie de Céline, Collection
Folio, Gallimard, Paris, 2005, p.377.
[15]
Ibid, p.731.
[16]
In Nord, at the very
beginning of the central novel of the trilogy, and so because of its placement
in the trilogy is the most important, Céline reminds the reader what it is he
is actually doing using the collocation ‘chroniquer fidèle’. For Jean-Louis
Houdebine Céline’s whole relationship with time, in respect to the German
trilogy, is completely different due to the historical context to the rest of
his writing.
‘Disons simplement qu’à partir du moment où le
matériau biographique utilisé par Céline est venue se nouer inextricablement au
drame de la seconde Guerre mondiale, son écriture romanesque ne pouvait que
rencontrer l’art des chroniqueurs avec lequel elle entretenait depuis le début (
dés Voyage ) une parenté surprenante. Disons plus : la lecture
de ces écrits, dont il faut également rappeler qu’ils sont d’un genre
spécifiquement français, et aussi l’occasion pour Céline d’y vérifier comme
peut se régler, dans le réel d’une langue et d’un style, un type de rapport à
l’Histoire et à la Politique- un rapport foncièrement subjectif, dans lequel,
et de ce fait même , le lien social en vient ( parfois ) à se
dénouer, pour faire apparaître, par en-dessous, l’immédiateté d’Horreur dont il
se paie.’
L’Année Céline,
Revue D’Actualité Célinienne – Textes- Chronique- Documents- Études, Du Lérot,
IMEC Éditions, 1993, p.197.
[17]
I am referencing the first
edition now in the Collection Blanche published by Gallimard in 1969. While
working on this book, I got into the method of reading each text three times,
the first two readings were done typically while commuting to and from work and
I used the French paperbacks published by Gallimard in their Folio collection.
Typically, these books, which are quite cheap and so extremely practical books
to use as books to underline and mark with post its as one does not really care
about damaging them. They are workbooks, while the larger texts published in
the famous Collection Blanche editions would typically be the source of the
third and final reading. While switching editions, I noticed a very interesting
thing. Because the Collection Blanche copies were larger than the Collection
Folio editions, my perspective of the actual texts changed. In other words, the
actual geography of the text, in terms of its spatiality had a very real impact
on my perception of the content. I would liken this experience as being
analogous to when I moved from the city suburbs out to the country here in
north county Dublin, where because of the broad panoramas I was proffered my
vision of things in general became much more broader. This kind of spatial
perception has been documented very well by phenomenologists such as Peter
Sloterdijk today, and of course Gaston Bachelard, in many ways his
predecessor.
Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Rigodon, Préface de
François Gibault, Gallimard, Paris, 1969. We
[18] « Nord c’etait l’armée anglaise…Ouest c’était
Eisenhower…ils en voulaient tous à Zornhof ?... »
Céline, Louis Ferdinand : Nord, Collection
Folio, Gallimard, Paris, 2022, p.269.
[19]
It is very to make parallels
with D’un château l’autre and Inferno by Dante, as Céline early
on in his novel describes the transformation of a barge on the Seine from his
house in Meudon into Charon’s bark taking all the souls down into hell on the
river Styx, as indeed Dante describes in Canto 2 of the Inferno the very self-
same transportation. With Nord the similarities are perhaps less
dramatic, but altogether similar in terms of the idea which permeates the whole
ontological concept of purgatory, in this it is a lengthy period of transition
which is an intermediary one where the victim is passing from hell on their way
to paradise. For Céline and his entourage, this is exactly what the
circumstances are as described in the novel Nord as they wait in the
Prussian farm for their moment to escape to Denmark, which will be there flight
to freedom.
[21]
Ibid, p.103.
[22]
Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Nord,
Collection Folio, Gallimard, Paris, 2022, p.8.
[23]‘Already the flame was erect and
quiet, no longer speaking, and already it had left us with the sweet permission
of my sweet poet,
when
another, coming after it, made us turn our eyes to its peak because of the
confused sound coming out of it.
As
the Sicilian bull, which first bellowed with the cries of him – and that was
right – who had tempered it with his file,
used
to bellow with the voice of the affected one, so that, though made of brass,
still it seemed transfixed with pain:
so,
not having any path or outlet from its origin within the fire, the anguished
words were converted into its language.’
Alighieri,
Dante: Inferno, The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, Volume 1, Edited
and Translated by Robert M. Durling, Introduction and Notes by Ronald L. Martinez
and Robert M. Durling, Oxford University Press, First Paperback Edition, 1997,
pp.416-417.
[24] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Rigodon, Préface de
François Gibault, Gallimard, Paris, 1969, p.172.
[25] ‘Ieu sui
Arnaut, que plor e vau cantan ;
consiros vei la passada folor,
e vei jausen lo joi qu’esper denan.’
‘I
am Arnaut, who weep and go singing; with chagrin I
view
my past folly, and rejoicing I see ahead the joy I hope for.’
I
the reference to singing is very apt, both Dante and Céline share this musical
quality.
Alighieri,
Dante: Purgatorio, The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, Edited and
Translated by Robert M. Durling, Introduction and Notes by Ronald L. Martinez
and Robert M. Durling, Oxford University Press, Oxford New York,
2003,pp.444-445.
[26]
Szymborska, Wislawa: View
with a Grain of Sand, Selected Poems translated by Stanislaw Barańczak and
Clare Cavanagh, Faber and Faber, London, London, 1996, p. 36.
[27] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Rigodon, Préface de François
Gibault, Gallimard, Paris, 1969, p.165.
[28]
The bombing would have
happened in 1944 and Céline would have been working on Rigodon during
1960/61 latest so a period of 16 to 17 years had elapsed between the two
events.
[30]
Ibid.p.174.
[31] Céline, Louis Ferdinand: Rigodon, Préface de
François Gibault, Gallimard, Paris, 1969, p.179.
[32]
Ibid, p.179.
[33]
Chopin: Polonaise in G sharp
minor, Op. posth. ( Vladimir Ashkenazy, Decca Recordings, 1996.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0e-ff3yhms&list=RDV0e-ff3yhms&start_radio=1
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