Chapter 158 Ten look at this Paris, look at this man

To sum it up briefly, the wild child in Paris today is just like the plagiarism in Rome back then, he is the kind of people's child with wrinkles from the ancient country on his forehead. Wild children are the glory of the motherland, but also the disease of the motherland, a disease that must be cured.How to heal?Use the light. Light washes away dirt. Light clears darkness. All the splendor of benevolence in society comes from science, literature, art, and education.Train people, train people.You give him light, he will give you heat.Sooner or later, the glorious question of education for all will be raised with the irresistible power of absolute truth, and then, guided by French thought, those who govern the country will have to choose: the sons and daughters of France or the sons and daughters of Paris Wild child, do you want the flame in the light or the will-o'-the-wisp in the dark.

The wild child explains Paris, and Paris explains the world. Because Paris is the sum.Paris is the canopy of humanity.This whole marvelous city is a microcosm of dead customs and existing ones.Anyone who has seen Paris thinks that he has seen the whole inside story of history and the occasional sky and stars on the screen.In Paris there is a Capitol, which is the Hôtel de Ville, a Parthenon, which is Notre-Dame, an Avandan, which is the suburb of Saint-Antoine, an Asinarium, which is the Sorbonne, a Panthion, It is the Pantheon, a sacred road, the Italian road, a tower of winds, public opinion, and it replaces Romni with ugliness.Its marauders are called hakama kids, its duomen are called suburban people, its hamars are called market bastards, its lazarones are called gangsters, and its kirkners are called dandies.You can find everything in Paris anywhere else.The fishwife of Dumarce and the weedwoman of Euripides face each other, the rope-walker Furiozzo is the reincarnation of the discus-thrower Fragenius, and Delavonius Miller will take the guard Ward Punkle's arm, Damasep would linger in the thrift shop, Vincent assassinated Socrates as Agora imprisoned Diderot, Grimm de la Regnières would make fat steaks as Gourd Thilus invented roasted hedgehogs.We see the elevated swing in Plautus's book reappearing under the balloon at the Star Gate, the sword swallower that Apuleius met in Pusile is the sword swallower on the New Bridge, Lamu's nephew and Gurgulion the parasite is a pair, El Ghazir asks Aegelfoy to introduce him to Cambaserus, the four dandies of Rome, Alcesimarchus, Phaedromus , Diapolis, and Argiripa set out from La Gourdie in the mail coach of Labato, and Ory Ger was no more in the presence of Conglio than Charle Notier was with Porrichner. Longer, Maldon is not a tigress, but Baldarisca is by no means a dragon, Pandorabus the funnyman taunts Normandanius the hedonist in the cafés of England, Elmoren is the tenor of the Place des Elysées, And around him there's the rascal Tracius who asks for donations in the guise of Pabes, the nasty guy who pinches your buttons in the Tuileries Square and won't let you go for you to repeat after two thousand years The words of Thesbrion: "Who suddenly seized my lapel in my haste?" The big swing, the Pere Lachaise phosphorescent in the night rain as much as the Esquiere, the five-year graves of the poor comparable to the rented coffins of slaves.

Please look for something that Paris doesn't have.Everything that was in the cask of Trophonius was not in the tub of Mesmart, El Gaphiras revived by Gallostro, Brahmin Vasavanta was reincarnated Count Germain, St. Mita's cemetery shows miracles just as brilliantly as the Umm Meyah Mosque in Damascus. In Paris there is an Aesop, Mayer, and a Candy, Miss Le Normand.Like Delphi, it panics at the dazzling reality of illusion, it turns tables like Dodona's three-legged stool, it enthrones the Coquette as Rome enthroned the harlot.All in all, if Louis XV is worse than Clodius, Madame Du Barry is better than Mechaline.Paris combines Greek nudity, Hebrew abscess, and Gasconian jokes into an unprecedented figure that actually existed and that we have come into contact with.It mashed up Diogenes, Job, and Bayas, and made clothes for a zombie out of old copies of the Constitutionalist, and there was Shodruk Duclos.

In spite of Plutarch's words: "Tyrants never grow old," Rome, under Silas as under Domitian, tolerated poverty and was willing to mix water with her wine.The Tiber is a river of fascination, if we must believe the somewhat archaic eulogy of Valus Vibiscus: "Across from Graccus we have the Tiber. Drinking the Tiber If you drink the water of the Beau, you will forget to rebel." Paris drinks a million liters of water every day, but this does not prevent it from sounding the trumpet and ringing the bell at the appropriate time, and entering a state of alert. Other than that, Paris is a good kid.It accepts everything generously, and it is not difficult to talk in front of beautiful women. Its beauty is Hottentot. As long as it smiles, everything is easy to negotiate. Ugly makes it happy, deformity makes it happy, and evil makes it forget. Worry, as long as you are different, you can win the favor of everyone, and hypocrisy, even if it is an extremely shameless act, will not make it violent.It was so literary that it would not hold its nose in Basil's presence, and it resented Dartuffe's prayer no more than Horace did Priapus' hiccup.All the lines of faces in the world are not lacking in the silhouette of Paris.The Mabi dance hall is not the Polyshenian dance of Jean Nicole, but the woman who resells the powder there is looking at the beautiful lady with a thieves' eyes, just like the matchmaker Staphyla who is spying on the virgin Pranasi.The battle gate is not an arena, but there everyone fights fiercely, as if Caesar is watching them.The Syrian proprietress was more coquettish than Madame Sague, but if Virgil didn't stop at a hotel in Rome, David de Anges, Balzac, and Charlet also sat at tables in Parisian bistros.Paris reigns supreme.There are geniuses Bingwei and red tails.Athena used to pass there in a chariot with twelve thunder wheels; Silenus rode into the city on a donkey.Silenus is Ramponnos.

Paris is synonymous with the universe.Paris is Athens, Rome, Sybaris, Jerusalem, Pantin.All cultures are there in miniature, as are all barbarisms.Paris would feel a fly in the ointment if it didn't have a guillotine. A little Place Greve is good.What would the never-ending feast be without this condiment?Our laws are skilfully prepared for this, and with them the ax may bleed in a carnival.