The first part of this blog has placed Voltaire’s Zadig in the context of Enlightenment Orientalism. However, the Voltairean Orient is not entirely fictional. Chapter 17, entitled ‘The Hermit’, relates the protagonist’s encounter with a mentor, who eventually turns into the Zoroastrian angel Jesrad. On the way to Babylon, the wise man seems to act strangely and ungratefully towards those who protect and shelter them.^[1] From theft to arson to murder, the hermit commits seemingly unspeakable crimes, repeatedly prompting Zadig to object to the hermit’s incomprehensible cruelty. Finally, Jesrad reveals himself as an angelic godsend to Zadig, explaining his actions and saying: ‘Thou, of all the human race, wast the only man that deserved to have thy mind enlightened.’^[2] Submitting to providential foresight, as well as following the angel’s concluding instructions (‘Make thy way towards Babylon’), Zadig is able to beat his rivals for the throne, marry his beloved Queen Astarte and lead his country into an age of unprecedented peace and prosperity: ‘Everyone blessed Zadig; and Zadig blessed Heaven [for his unexpected success].’^[3] His search for contentment thus reaches a happy, if somewhat predictable, ending.

This didactic episode of Voltaire’s oriental fable is likely to have been based on two related, but very different, sources: one is the Anglo-Irish clergyman Thomas Parnell’s poem ‘The Hermit’ (1722), and the other is Sura 18 of the Quran, entitled ‘The Cave.’^[4] In Parnell’s text, an aged recluse has spent his entire life in the wilderness: ‘Remote from Man, with God he pass'd the Days/ Pray'r all his Bus'ness, all his Pleasure Praise.’^[5] His only means of procuring information about the outside world are books and local youths, who report what they have experienced throughout the day. But in order to see for himself whether virtue or vice will finally prevail in the world, the hermit leaves his abode, eventually meeting a youth, who accompanies him on his quest for worldly wisdom. Their adventures are similar to Zadig’s, with the youth acting in a fashion that is anathema to the pious recluse until the young mentor turns into the angelic incantation of the prophet Elisha. He explains his actions and ascends to heaven, leaving behind a praying hermit: ‘Then gladly turning, sought his antient place/And pass'd a Life of Piety and Peace.’ (248-49). It seems that the hermit has come full circle, with the crucial difference, however, of fully trusting God’s superior wisdom in the end.

Whilst the Quran, on the other hand, tells a similar story in Sura 18 (verses 60-82), it differs from Parnell’s poem in some important ways. The seeker of wisdom is none other than the Prophet Moses himself, who asks an unidentified figure, often described as Al Khidr, to follow him in order to imbibe some of his wisdom. Initially reluctant to be accompanied by Moses, the mentor finally admits the prophet into his company after cautioning him thus: ‘If you follow me then, do not query anything I do before I mention it to you myself.’^[6] Like Jesrad in Zadig and the youth in ‘The Hermit’, Al Khidr severely tests the patience of the wisdom-seeking character before his explanations reveal the meaning of his actions, and they finally part ways. Unlike Jesrad and the youth, however, Al Khidr appears as himself without turning into an angel. And whereas Voltaire and Parnell’s wise men offered their company to Zadig and the hermit, respectively, it is Moses in the Quran who asks Al Khidr for permission to follow and learn from him.^[7] Since Voltaire was aware of both Parnell’s poem and several translations of the Quran, he is likely to have drawn on both sources, as they were probably two versions of a more general myth that was in free circulation between different continents and their religious and literary cultures.^[8] Most importantly, however, the episode of the wise man and his pupil illustrates that stories flow freely across various kinds of religious, temporal and geographical borders, initiating the kinds of cultural cross-fertilisation that Aravamudan has characterised as defying the parochial frameworks of national realism.

We have come a long way from Voltaire’s fictional Orient to those stories that do not fit squarely into prearranged narratives of literary and cultural history. Yet Zadig’s search for happiness takes us back to the beginning: to Dupin and the origins of detective fiction. In chapter two (‘The Nose’), Zadig achieves an impressive feat of deductive reasoning that not only spells a lot of trouble for him personally but is also akin to the ways in which Poe’s detective solves even the most mysterious cases. Zadig removes himself from society in order to seek wisdom and happiness when suddenly servants of both the king and the queen appear in search of their horse and dog, respectively. He has never seen either animal, yet he is able to describe both perfectly well to the royal servants. Consequently, they promptly arrest him before he is interrogated by the king’s chief minister. Once at court, he is able to explain the reasons behind his precise knowledge of both animals, and it turns out that he merely read and assembled all the traces he found in the wilderness before the royal servants arrived: ‘The whole bench of judges stood astonished at the profundity of Zadig’s discernment.’^[9] And although he escapes unscathed, Zadig is now ‘fully convinced that it was very dangerous to be over-wise’, eventually pondering ‘how difficult it is for a man to be happy on this side of the grave.’^[10]

Whilst Voltaire’s Zadig employs his mental capabilities in his search for personal happiness, Poe’s Dupin seems to view his cases as elaborate intellectual exercises. The unnamed narrator in ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ (1841), who functions as the protagonist’s sidekick, relates how they strolled down a street in Paris together, when Dupin suddenly interrupts his thought process with what appears to be a rather random remark: “‘He is a very little fellow, that’s true, and would do better for the Théâtre des Variétés.’”^[11] Without noticing at first that Dupin seems to have read his thoughts, he finally collects himself: “‘Dupin,’ said I, gravely, ‘this is beyond my comprehension.’’’^[12] It turns out that the narrator thought of the actor Chantilly, whom both know, and Dupin then proceeds to explain the ways in which he carefully read his companion’s behaviour before drawing conclusions about the subject of his meditations. A little later, they pick up a newspaper reporting two unusual murders that had occurred in the Rue Morgue. Although he is not a professional detective, Dupin embarks on solving the case because it promises to afford him amusement.^[13] After a long and detailed inquiry, he is able to unravel the mystery behind the murders: an orangutan owned by a sailor had escaped and accidentally killed the two victims. By assembling all the traces and information available at the crime scene, Dupin miraculously puts together all the different parts of the puzzle before nonchalantly saying about the police prefect of Paris: “‘I am satisfied with having defeated him in his own castle.’”^[14] In similar fashion to Zadig’s conclusion about the dog and the horse, then, Dupin employs his astounding mental capabilities to search for the truth.^[15] And the representation of these capabilities, as the stories of both Voltaire and Poe demonstrate, is not confined to any one culture or subject to the strictures of national histories.

[1] James Fowler, ‘Introduction’ in Candide and Other Works, pp. vii-xxv, here: p. xiii.

[2] Voltaire, ‘Zadig or the Book of Fate’, p. 68.

[3] Ibid., p. 69 and 73.

[4] Pierre Larcher, ‘Voltaire, Zadig et le Coran’, p. 296 and 299.

[5] Parnell, Thomas, 1679-1718. Poems on Several Occasions: Written by Dr. Thomas Parnell, Late Arch-Deacon of Clogher: and Published by Mr. Pope (London: printed for B. Lintot, 1722), pp. 164-80, here: lines no. 5-6. All further references are to this edition.

[6] The Qur'an. Translated by M.A.S. Abdel Haleem, Oxford UP, 2005, p. 188.

[7] For a comparison of Zadig and the Quran, compare: Pierre Larcher, ‘Voltaire, Zadig et le Coran’, p. 298-9.

[8] Ibid. p. 296 and 303.

[9] Voltaire, ‘Zadig or the Book of Fate’, p. 15.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue,’ p. 146.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Ibid., p. 157.

[14] Ibid. p. 176.

[15] Ibid., p. 165: “’My ultimate object is only the truth.’”

Image: Forecourt of the Ummayad Mosque by Gustav Bauernfeind, accessed here