A Season In Hell

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I loved the wilds, scorched orchards; faded shops, lukewarm drinks. I would drag myself through stinking alleys, and, eyes closed, offer myself to the sun, god of fire. It was academic at first. I wrote of silences, nights, I expressed the inexpressible. I defined vertigos. In the first lines of the introduction to ‘A Season in Hell,’ the speaker explains that there was one point in his life when he was truly happy. He uses the metaphor of a “feast” in which “all hearts opened” to describe how he felt. In the next line, the poet uses personification to describe “Beauty” sitting on his lamp, but it was not so simple. He “found her bitter” and he “reviled her”. He “fled” from his life, calling out all the elements o this life that he thinks are to blame. Benim okuduğum bu baskının çevirisi bence çok güzeldi. zaten ilk 43 sayfa şairden önceki akımları ve şairin kendisini inceleyen bir çevirmen notu var. kitabın sonunda da şiirle ilgili açıklamalar var yine. ama tavsiyem, Rimbaud'un Cehennemde Bir Mevsim'in içinde bulunan "Sözün Simyası'nı okumanız, çünkü az çok kendi sanatını anlatıyor. Verlaine ile ilişkisi içinse 'Çingene Kız, Cehennemlik Koca'sı okunmalı. Ayrıca şuradan okuyabileceğiniz kitap ( Rimbaud: The Works: A Season In Hell, Poems & Prose, Illuminations), bana oldukça fayda sağladı. Ah, that life of my childhood, the highway in all weathers, supernaturally sober, more disinterested than the finest of beggars, proud of having neither country nor friends, how foolish it was. – And only now do I realise!

As stated early on, one gets a faint essence of Rimbaud, but what one is really reading here, I feel, is Mathieu. It's not bad, but it's not the Rimbaud that I've come to know and love. So why do I give it such a high rating -- 4.5 stars, let's say? Ah, to rise again to life! To set eyes on our deformities. And that poison, that kiss a thousand times damned! My weakness, the world’s cruelty! My God, have pity, hide me, I can’t defend myself! – I’m hidden yet un-hidden. I was forced to travel, to distract myself from the enchantments thronging my brain. Over the sea, which I loved as if it were sure to cleanse me of defilement, I saw the consoling cross arise. I had been damned by the rainbow. Happiness was my fatality, my remorse, my worm: my life would forever be too immense to be devoted to strength and beauty. I! I, who called myself magus or angel, exempt from all morality, I’m returned to the soil, with a task to pursue, and wrinkled reality to embrace! A peasant!I consigned to the devil the martyrs’ palm-leaves, the light of art, the pride of inventors, the ardour of looters; I returned to the East and primal eternal wisdom – It seems that’s a dream of gross idleness!

a b c d Mathieu, Bertrand, "Introduction" in Rimbaud, Arthur, and Mathieu, Bertrand (translator), A Season in Hell & Illuminations (Rochester, New York: BOA Editions, 1991). Once, if my memory serves me well, my life was a banquet where every heart revealed itself, where every wine flowed.” Reason is born in me. The world is good. I’ll bless life. I’ll love my brothers. These are no longer childish promises. Nor the hope of escaping old age and death. God give me strength and I praise God.Sometimes I see limitless beaches in the sky covered by white nations full of joy. A great golden vessel, above me, waves its multicoloured flags in the morning breeze. I’ve created all the feasts, all the triumphs, all the dramas. I’ve tried to invent new flowers; new stars, new flesh, new languages. I believed I’d gained supernatural powers. Ah well! I must bury my imagination and my memories! Sweet glory as an artist and story-teller swept away! General, if there’s one old cannon left on your ruined ramparts, bombard us with chunks of dried earth. Fire on the windows of splendid stores! Into the salons! Make the city eats its own dust. Oxidise the gargoyles. Fill the boudoirs with burning powdered rubies...” I’ve glimpsed a conversion to goodness and joy, salvation. Let me describe the vision, the air of hell suffers no hymns! It was of millions of enchanting creatures, sweet spiritual harmony, strength and peace, noble ambitions, who knows what?

You’re a hyena still…’ the demon cries who crowned me with such delightful poppies. ‘Win death with all your appetites; your egoism, all the deadly sins.’ yakın zamanda Baudelaire okuduğum için etkilerini az çok görebildim. bunun başlıcası bu esriklik dediğimizde daha güzel olan LSD kafası yani ister gözün arkası deyin, ister gözün önünden çekilmiş perde, bunları aşarak şiir yazma çabası bu. bazen madde alarak 'sahtesine (öyle diyor)', bazen de deneyimleme ile geçiyor bu "bilinmez"e. Bad Blood ( Mauvais sang) – describes the narrator's Gaulish ancestry and its supposed effect on his morality and happiness. If it were always awake from now on, we would soon arrive at truth, which perhaps surrounds us with its angels weeping! ... – If it had been awake till now, I would never have yielded to pernicious instincts, in an immemorial age! ... If it had always been awake, I should be voyaging full of wisdom! ...Rimbaud gave advance copies of A Season in Hell to his former mentor and lover, Paul Verlaine, and to a few other friends. Snubbed socially and artistically following a scandal that landed Verlaine in prison, Rimbaud burned the remaining copies of the book in a fireplace at his mother’s house. He also burned a sheaf of his unpublished poems. He said he no longer thought about poetry. The boy who had been the talk of Paris at the age of sixteen—“an infant Shakespeare” in the words of novelist Victor Hugo—gave up poetry for a life of wandering and, eventually, running guns to rebel tribes in Africa. Cover of the first edition October 1873 Recording by Vincent Planchon for Audiocite.net. Part 1. Recording by Vincent Planchon for Audiocite.net. Part 2. Recording by Vincent Planchon for Audiocite.net. Part 3. The third part was... well, I don't want to say that I enjoyed reading it, because it's about the narrator's death and his arrival to hell (nothing really nice to read right before going to bed, honestly), but it's beautifully written. Again, this young man makes you feel what was going through his mind and soul with unsettling details.