MARSHALL BERMAN
207
metabolic and dialectical flow between the modern city and the modern
self.
In
the Preface to
Paris SpLeen,
Baudelaire proclaims that "modern
life,"
La vie moderne,
requires a new language: "a poetic prose, musical
without rhythm and without rhyme, supple enough and rugged
enough to adapt itself to the soul's lyrical impulses, the undulations of
reverie, the leaps and jolts of consciousness
(soubresauts de con–
science)."
He emphasizes that " it was above all from the exploration of
enormous cities and from the convergence of their innumerable
connections
[du croisement de Leurs innomrabLes rapports]
that this
obsessive ideal was born. " What Baudelaire communicates in this
language, above all, is a series of what I will call primal modern scenes:
experiences that arise from the concrete everyday life of Bonaparte's
and Haussmann's Paris but carry a mythic resonance and depth that
propel them beyond their place and time and transform them into
archetypes of modern life.
THE FAMILY OF EYES
Our first primal scene emerges in "The Eyes of the Poor"
(Paris
SpLeen
#26). This poem takes the form of a lover's complaint: the
narrator is explaining to the woman he loves why he feels distant and
bitter toward her. He reminds her of an experience they recentl y shared.
It was the evening of a long and lovely day that they had spent alone
together. They sat down on the terrace " in front of a new cafe that
formed the corner of a new boulevard. " The boulevard was "still
littered with rubble," but the cafe ';already displayed proudly its
unfinished splendors." Its most splendid quality was a flood of new
light: "The cafe was dazzling. Even the gas burned with the ardor of a
debut; with all its power it lit the blinding whiteness of the walls, the
expanse of mirrors, the gold cornices and moldings." Less dazzling was
the decorated interior that the gaslight lit up: a ridiculous profusion of
Hebes and Ganymedes, hounds and falcons, "nymphs and goddesses
bearing piles of fruits, pates and game on their heads," a melange of
"all history and all mythology pandering to gluttony."
In
other
circumstances the narrator might recoil from this commercialized
grossness; in love, however, he can laugh affectionately, and enjoy its
vulgar appeal-our age would call it Camp.
As the lovers sit gazing happily into each other's eyes, suddenly
