I am told that the critical drama of the Figaro and Telerama have spoken to in a condescending tone, dismissive of the piece written and played by Philippe Murgier, which plays currently at the Theatre 14, My friend The Fountain.
not being a drama critic, but an amateur, I have no embarrassment to say the pleasure, the emotion that I have experienced to see this beautiful piece on Fouquet, on the horrible prison in which Louis XIV condemned him, on the soft light that the Fables of La Fontaine were able to broadcast in a sensitive heart.
also Read, September 5, 1661. On the day that Nicolas Fouquet was arrested by d’artagnan
The suffering, the courage, the books as an antidote to despair, such is the subject of the piece of Philippe Murgier. Louis XIV did not condemn her only Fouquet to die like a rat in his hole, but he banned him at the same time the paper, the pen, reading. My friend The Fountain, it is the irruption in the lives of the unfortunate Fouquet, the collection of fables that comes to publish his faithful friend, The Fountain and that the latter was able to send him clandestinely.
During the performance, I have not ceased for a moment to think about the tears of joy that one of my friends, a young Russian painter, had been able, in the spring of 1967, help pay when in a cafe, in Moscow, I had spent under the table, wrapped in newspaper, a book of Berdiaeff, a philosopher whose work and name were struck with anathema under the soviet totalitarian regime. I thought also to Jean-Paul Kauffmann, who, in the horrible dungeon where the islamic jihad held him chained for long years, drew on the force to survive in the reading of a few books that, by some miracle, were in his possession, The Bible, jean-paul Sartre, War and peace by Tolstoy.
By a happy coincidence, a few days after the evening at the Theatre 14, I get in the mail the new edition of a book of Pierre Boutang long since been exhausted Holiganbet : The Fountain policy, published by The Provincial. It is certainly one of the most beautiful tests of Boutang, who was The Fountain at the top of the Root ; which had one of its two authors bedside, the other being Dante.
Saint Augustine above all
If I have an advice to give you, it is : 1. you rush to the Theatre 14 to see the play of Philippe Murgier ; 2. you rush to your bookstore to buy the book of Boutang.
On the place occupied by the animals on our good old Earth, in our lives, we have in recent times, on the occasion of raids in punitive a few vegans against meat, fish stores and even dairies, heard good things. These excessive activists, The Fountain would be to swallow a few grains of ellébore ; and me, I advise them the reading of the Fables of The Fountain, The Fountain of Pierre Boutang.
It was Pierre Boutang, who, I was very young, offered me a book which still today constitutes one of the jewels of my small library : the Confessions of st. Augustine in the beautiful translation of the Gentlemen of Port-Royal, Arnaud of Andilly, to be precise. Well, on the eve of the feast of All Saints, I would like to offer to our readers, those who eat meat and those who do not eat, these few lines of Augustine. They are specific to the pacify, the one and the other :
” I do not fear that there is uncleanness in meats, but I fear the uncleanness of gluttony. I know that Elijah ate of the flesh, and that st. John in his admirable abstinence, was not defiled because they ate grasshoppers. I know to the contrary, that Esau lost his birthright to have eaten lentils and that David is accused of having desired to drink of the water ; and that Jesus Christ, who is our King, has not been tempted with the flesh, but with bread. “
On the same subject, September 5, 1661. On the day that Nicolas Fouquet was casino sitesi arrested by d’artagnan
