Panhypocrisiade

Panhypocrisiade, or the infernal comedy of XVIe century is a poem in 16 songs of Népomucène Lemercier, made up essentially under the Consulate but only published in 1819.

It is a strange work, already definitely romantic, “ a kind of literary dream , known as Victor Hugo, a species of monster with three heads, which sings, which laughs and which barks. ” criticism was not tender for this astonishing work. “ It there has in this work , wrote Charles Nodier in the Newspaper of DEBATEs , all that it was necessary of ridiculous to spoil all the epopees of every century, and, beside that, all that it was necessary of inspiration to found a great literary reputation. This monstrous chaos of worms astonished to meet together from time to time points out what the taste has of purer. It is sometimes Rabelais, Aristophane, Lucien, Milton, through will fatras of a parodist of Chaplain. ”

The poem especially makes think of the Tragiques of Agrippa of Aubigné, of which it finds the accents of indignation and strange poetry and often almost hallucinated. It puts in scene, around Charles IX and of François Ier, the scenes and the characters of the Wars of religion, supposed being represented by demons on the scene of an imaginary theater: dialog of the constable of Bourbon and Conscience, Entretien of the Ant and Death, Plainte of the oak shot down by soldiers, Dispute of Luther and the Devil, Conversation of Rabelais and the Reason, the Battle field of Pavia…

The passage on Rabelais gives an idea of the surprising style of this unclassable poem:

It is Carême-Prenant, which pride mortifies:

Its people, ichtyophage, skinny, vaporous,

With the ear which tinkles and the dream-hollow spirit.

Envisage not far these dedicated Papimanes,

Which, on the divine love, is stronger than asses,

And which, happy enthusiasts, fattened of all goods,

Rôtissent many andouille and many Lutherans.

Laugh at the nation of the monks gastrolâtres:

do you See the god of which they are idolâtres?

This colossus rounded, thundering, deaf, and without eyes,

First author of the arts cultivated under the skies,

Only king of the wills, tyrant of the consciences,

And clever Master of all sciences,

It is the belly! the belly! Yes, lord Gaster

Of the men from time immemorial was large the magister,

And always will vautra the foolish rabble

For this god, whose throne is the bored saddle.

I cry and laugh at it together; and in turn I believe

Retrouver Héraclite and Démocrite in me.

Hu ! hu! I while crying, what say! this god who digests,

What! so many so beautiful effects, the belly operate them!

Hu ! hu! let us deplore! hu! what a ashamed destinies,

Of us to agitate so much for our only intestines!

Hu ! hu! hu! what a pitiful spirit centers! the purpose of

the man in all his work is thus the belly!

But such as Large-Gousier crying over Badebec,

turning to his/her son feels his dry tears;

Hi ! hi! I while laughing, hi say! hi! hi! what a wonder,

That thus since Adam the belly obliges us

to plow, sow, harvest, gather the grapes,

Bâtir, to drive out, fish, fight, sail,

Peindre, to sing, dance, forge, slip by and sew,

Alambiquer, to weigh the riens, the air and the powder,

To be preachers, poets, lawyers,

Titrer, mitrer, to bless, to crown of Midas,

to bind Us at their court as in the single center,

Hi! hi! all that, all, hi! hi! hi! for the belly!

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