A Dark Muse: A History of the Occult (50 page)

The big Satan patted his enormous belly, and from it echoed a long, rattling click of metal, which ended with the sob of a chorus of human voices. He laughed, and displayed his broken teeth, and his laughter was like the complacent chuckle of well-off men who have dined too richly.

This Satan said to me: "I can give you that which obtains all, that which is worth all, that which replaces all." And he tapped again on his immense gullet, and a rumbling echo made up the commentary to his impudent words.

I turned from him in disgust, saying: "I have no need for my own enjoyment, or for anyone else's misery, and I certainly don't want the kind of riches that afflict one with all the horrors displayed, like tasteless wallpaper, on your corpulent flesh."

As for the She-Devil, I would be dishonest if I didn't admit that at first sight I found her a fetching creature, redolent of a bizarre charm. As for defining this appeal, I can't compare it with anything better than that of very beautiful women who are on the wane, those who never seem to age, yet whose beauty is like the enchanting magic of ruins. Her hair was imperious and disjointed, and her eyes, though tired, emanated a powerful fascination. What struck me most was the mystery of her voice, in which I found the sound of a delicious contralti combined with the husky rumble of one who has enjoyed too fully the pleasures of drinking brandy.

"Do you want to know my power?" said this Goddess with her charming and paradoxical voice. "Listen." She took a gigantic trumpet, decorated like a reed pipe with the names of all the newspapers in the world, and putting it to her lips, she blared out my name. It rolled across the universe like the roar of a thousand waterfalls, and reverberated back to me after returning from the most distant planets.

"The Devil!" I cried, half in her power. "That's what's precious!" But, after examing more attentively the seductive virago, it seemed to me that I recognized her after all. Yes, that's it - I had seen her in a compromising situation with some knaves of my acquaintance, and the memory of that liason brought to mind the atmosphere of a shop worn prostitute.

So I answered resolutely "Get thee behind me. I'm not one to take as wife the mistress ofdullards I'd rather not remember."

I had every reason to be proud of my courage, integrity and fortitude. But soon after, I sadly awoke, and all my strength drained away. "In truth," I said to myself," I must have been dreaming to have shown such scruples. Now, if only they'd return when I am wide awake! Well, that would be a different story!"

I invoked them with ardour, begging their forgiveness, and assuring them that I would dishonour myself as often as possible, in order to warrant their return. But no luck. I hadn't the faintest doubt that I offended them, for they never returned.

From Lesfleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil)

CHARLES BAUDELAIRE

Correspondances

A Past Life

Litany to Satan

CHARLES BAUDELAIRE