Letters From Prison (42 page)

May they be read in that spirit, and not in the sense of laying down any laws, knowing full well that in my wretched state I am in no position to do so, and assuring you that were I in a position to do so, the first law I would lay down would be to have
la présidente burned at the stake over a very slow flame.

Summing Up

1. I am ready and willing to leave,
¹³
because I have no other choice and because, moreover, I have hopes to be better off than I am, in return for which I agree to leave whenever one would like, my only request being that I be given till Thursday to wind up what I have begun.

2. I most insistently request that I not be guarded during my journey. If one absolutely insists on this score, I shall nonetheless leave, because I cannot resist force, but never shall I pay the police escort,
¹⁴
and I
shall take my revenge on those responsible for this scurrilous act by any and all means, including the worst I can dream up.

3. I ask that I be allowed to go to my own estates and not to Montélimar, and if one insists on going through with the insipid and ridiculous project of Montélimar, I shall remain in my room throughout the voyage, without ever coming out, and as a result without ever offering anyone the sweet pleasure of judging me, and I give my word that not for one moment shall I attend to my business affairs, and I further request that Gaufridy be informed that under no circumstances should he come to see me, for if he dares do so he will be badly received.

4. If on the contrary my request is granted, that is, a fortnight in Paris in my wife’s home in order to see my children, and thence to leave for my estates, whether exiled or not, then I give my most solemn word of honor that I shall do nothing that will make anyone other than completely satisfied with my conduct. And I end by swearing to you, Mademoiselle, that they who dispose of my fate will have every reason to be pleased and satisfied by granting what I desire, and every reason
to sorely regret it
if they refuse.

Were I to write twenty letters, I would say the same thing over and over again, of that I feel certain; ’tis therefore a complete waste of time to speak further about it. On Wednesday, and surely not later than Thursday, I shall send my manuscript
¹⁵
to Madame de Sade. If between now and then I think of something further, I shall include it in what I have to instruct her regarding the manuscript. If on the contrary I do not think of anything further to offer, I shall simply put at the bottom of the letter that I base my position on the contents of my letter to you, and from that moment on I shall not utter another word on the subject. That will be proof that I have no intention of changing my mind: therefore ‘twill be absolutely pointless to speak to me about it again. In which case, one can come whenever one chooses, I shall be ready; I shall leave peacefully, without so much as a word about it,
but we shall see how things proceed thereafter.
I embrace you tenderly, my dear Mademoiselle, and only hope that before I leave this most accursed of countries, I may have the pleasure of embracing you one more time other than by letters.

1
. Sade is referring to the several attempts by the police, funded by Madame de Montreuil, to arrest him at La Coste.

2
. One of Sade’s Provençal stewards, specifically in charge of Saumane.

3
. Sade was doubtless paranoid, but sometimes not without good reason; Chauvin was surely profiting from his absence.

4
. Sade has long suspected, not without reason, that Madame de Montreuil has been conniving with Gaufridy behind his back. In this instance, Sade insinuates Gaufridy’s involvement in his rearrest at La Coste was not passive but active.

5
. The Marseilles affair, which he blames for his by now four-plus years in prison, even though the sentence was overturned in appeal. But by “affair” he is lumping together all the so-called scandals that had landed him in Vincennes.

6
. Antoine de Sartine, the lieutenant-general of all Paris police, who was instrumental in getting Sade arrested and keeping him in prison.

7
. The Rose Keller affair.

8
. Sade, writing paternalistically, doubtless means himself.

9
. Madame de Montreuil.

10
. Madame de Montreuil.

11
. One can only surmise what other country Sade had in mind, but the most logical would be Italy, which Sade knew and liked. (See Letter 61.)

12
. Sade seems to have adored his father much more after Jean-Baptiste’s death than he did before.

13
. For Montélimar.

14
. Under the monarchy, aristocrats being brought to prison, or being transferred from one prison to another under police escort, had the added indignity of having to pay for their guards.

15
. In all probability, his five-act comedy
L’Inconstant,
which later was retitled
Le Capricieux.

43. To Madame de Sade

[April 30, 1781]

I
t would appear, from your sublime letter of April 26th, received the 30th, that Milli Rousset is not the only one whose mind is growing, by God! What an expenditure you have just made! At least take care, for nothing is more debilitating than those efforts; one is surprised to ramble on incoherently at the age of forty, and then upon further reflection one sees that that is where it comes from!

I shall send you the manuscript tomorrow or the day after. I wanted to send with it a short dissertation, which I am working on—for my mind, too, is growing with the springtime—a dissertation
on the dangers of solitude and the deadly effects of prisons where solitude is the order of the day.
But it will not be ready in time. ’Tis perhaps the only composition for which I did not need to consult a single reference work;
my experience alone
was sufficient, and since it is written with a great deal of moderation, and without a trace of ill humor, I have no compunction, in forwarding it to you, about submitting it to the authorities for their inspection.
¹

I have already replied concerning the paper, the various things I need, the presumed departure, etc., those that are necessary, since I am still here, the departure not yet having taken place. The same applies for the great coats, the clothing, etc., and since all that was in very simple, straightforward letters, I am sure you must have received them. Thus if you turn a deaf ear to what I request, so be it, in return for which I shall simply say that it matters little to me. If you send, I shall receive; if you do not, I shall do without; you know very well what I need; that is enough, and I shall not make mention of it again.

Do you realize that you were at great risk in becoming involved in these wretched matters? I knew them like the back of my hand, and it bothered me to know you were amongst them but it was pointless to tell you; you would have responded with idle chatter.”
²
Alas! I am no more than the lowest of the low, and I have never had the least inkling about how to run a state, much less a city; but since I do believe in metempsychosis, if ever I were to be reborn in the body of some municipal or state administrator, I would promulgate a law whereby men
could do whatever they so pleased with whores,
and I would also dictate that ‘twas forbidden the authorities to try to ferret out dirt and thereby risk the lives of seven or eight thousand citizens, especially since I would have striking examples to back me up, including that of 1778.
³
But I repeat, that is because I am nothing more than the lowest of the low.

I have never known anything quite like the fact that you have turned a deaf ear to the copy of the letter I asked you to pass on to Monsieur Le Noir. Alas! Good Lord, if that letter was not up to snuff, then what kind of letter, I pray, must one write these days? I can make neither head nor tail of it. You seem intent on driving me to distraction. The inconsistency of what you are doing is only exceeded by its stupidity. ’Tis becoming increasingly clear that la présidente is growing old; of late her machinations no longer have the freshness, the brilliance, the ingenious force they once had! Oh! no, verily, these days her works are scarcely recognizable; they were far more sublime in earlier days! Above all, do not forget to send a large trunk full of provisions the day before I am due to be transferred, because as you recall that is precisely what she did at Pierre-Encize; we must at least make a show of staying true to our old selves.

Do you know who used to own that house across from the Luxembourg Gardens? Oh! I’m sure you know as well as I. It was the old Maillé mansion. My grandparents lived there during the reign of Louis XIII. A huge number of Mailés lived there, and today ‘twould surprise me if even a tenant farmer would want to hang his hat there.

But what is the point of your seeing me once a final decision has been made regarding my fate? At that time I must leave, and you with me, that is absolutely essential; and if that request is denied me, what they are doing is forcing me to commit yet another stupidity, whatever it may be, for you may be sure I shall come and fetch you, even if you are in the very depths of Hell. Is that the reason you refuse to let me know where you are lodged? Oh! that does not worry me, be assured, ‘twill take me no more than half an hour to search you out.

Yet ’tis passing strange that people should keep it a secret from the husband the place where his wife is living! If I were spiteful or malicious, and if I wanted to rake over the old coals one day . . . what weapons would be available to me!

I was going to return the six volumes to Mérigot. You may tell him for me that he will not receive a single one, even were I to be locked up here for another ten years, so long as he fails to send me another ten or twelve volumes for further reading. I cannot and will not read
Main-tenon
in the evening; at least buy me Bougainville,
⁴
I’ve been asking you for it for a century. I’ve repeated to you a thousand times, ’tis unspeakable that I be reduced to begging for books. For the past fortnight I’ve been buying, book by book, a kind of bright candle for which they charge me one crown per book; and for the past fortnight you have been aware of it; therefore, send me a store of candles or I shall pack my trunk. I would not be taking any great risk in so doing: a month ago today
Monsieur le Commandment de Rougemont
told me that I should do so. But unfortunately, four years of experience have taught me that the truth and de Rougemont are the two most incompatible things on the face of the earth, and that he enjoys tricking the poor wretches under his command the same way others enjoy hunting or fishing. Thus his giving me notice that I should start packing was all the impetus I needed to begin making little preparations for spending the summer here, which I would not have dreamed of doing without his charitable act.
Omnis homo mendax
—the man is a complete liar. I do not believe any mortal more deserves that proverb than he. Be that as it may, I promise that next time we see each other I shall make you laugh. You are well aware of my great talent for making things up; you shall see how I made good use of it,
whenever I have fasted, after dinner,
etc.

What is this latest nonsense, which I’ve heard an endless number of times?
Ask to see Milli Rousset wherever I may be?
Either I shall be at my estates or I shall be here, there is no middle ground. I have gone on about this far too long with Monsieur Le Noir; he felt so, too, and has talked to me on that subject like a judge, with what seemed to me utter honesty, wisdom, and I must say humanity. I can only commend him for it. I do believe that he is incapable of lying to me. In which wise, if I remain here, Mademoiselle Rousset knows full well that she cannot come and see me. And if I am at my estates, ‘twill be up to her to request permission,
to come and try to woo me.
And I shall grant her request, but only
under certain conditions,
which are pointless to lay out, since it’s of no concern to you. You have my permission to forewarn her of such.