by Alfred Jarry
translated by Samuel Lees
ATTEMPT AT A DEFINITION OF COURAGE
We have spoken of duelling and at greater length of the army. Our aim was to arrive at a definition of courage. But in the murky depths of thought we invariably lost the train of our ideas and were forced to return to square one, which proves, beyond a doubt, that there is fundamentally no link between either the army or duelling and the notion of courage we commonly attach to them.
Courage is a state of calm and poise in the presence of danger, identical in all points to the state in which one finds oneself in the absence of any danger. From this definition, be it provisional, it follows that there are two ways to acquire courage: 1. by removing oneself from danger; 2. by removing the idea of danger.
The first case is that of a man who, due to his natural prowess or, more often, by virtue of weapons he has acquired and learned to manipulate, places himself beyond the reach of danger. One is considerably less troubled by rain in the shadow of an umbrella than when fully exposed to the heavens, and likewise one does not fear the possibility of electrocution when equipped with a lightning rod in the efficacy of which one has complete faith. It is extremely rare that a man built like a lorry and armed to the teeth is intimidated by an adversary who is notoriously weak, pigeon-livered and deprived, what’s more, of any means of defence. It follows that the paragon of courage would be: Hercules, his massive club raised against a small child who has learned to walk just well enough that he might entertain the thought of running away. The pursuit of this Herculean ideal is evidenced by the ever increasing scope and sophistication of weapons in the arsenals of every army. Courage, in this case, comes from the knowledge of one’s superiority.
In the second case, that in which the armed thug confronts a fellow surpassing him in both brute strength and mechanical weaponry, courage cannot be anything other than ignorance or absent-mindedness. This ignorance is fuelled by various beliefs and idioms. Thus, people of every nation tell themselves that they are the bravest and mightiest in the world, that they are « at the head » of humanity. Alas, humanity is a kind of spherical monster with heads on all sides.
And, in a similar fashion, Gerard the Lion-Killer* forgot about that brutish animal and thought instead of France’s prestige, elevated by him, in the eyes of the Arabs.
An excellent way to distract the mind from something which otherwise would terrify it is to wave a piece of brightly-coloured fabric in front of it; the same method is used to distract the bull from something of which it is not sufficiently afraid. The effects vary depending on whether one presents the colourful material to a formidable brute or a feeble body of men ― we have just reconstructed the invention of the flag.
Notes
Jules « the lion-killer » Gérard (1817-1864) was a celebrated hunter and explorer. The illustration above, by Gustave Doré, is from La Chasse au lion.
Samuel Lees 