Zadig

“‘There is no greater happiness,’ said he, ‘than that which a philosopher enjoys in reading the great book which God has set before our eyes. The truths he there discovers become his own. He feasts his spirit with lofty thoughts. He lives a life of tranquillity [sic], in which no man gives him cause for fear and no loving wife comes to cut off his nose.’”

As he begins suffering misfortune, Zadig runs through a string of refuges he thinks will insulate him, including philosophy. His joke that as a philosopher he will not have to worry about his wife cutting off his nose, as Azora attempted, belies a feeling of betrayal motivating his retreat from people. His chance encounter with the crown’s men and subsequent imprisonment disabuse him of the idea that it is possible to remove oneself from the world of human events.

“Zadig saw how dangerous it sometimes is to be too clever, and he determined on the next occasion to say nothing of what he had seen.”

At the beginning of the novella, Zadig refuses to conceal any part of himself to appease people or avoid confrontation, staunchly defending scientific theories despite their condemnation by the government and clergy. His string of misfortunes changes his principle as here he seeks to protect himself in another way from, as he sees it, being persecuted for being himself. The subsequent failure of this tactic has a tragi-comic effect that makes light of people’s attempts to control their destinies.

“On what does happiness depend! I am at the mercy of everything in this world, even of creatures which don’t exist!”

Zadig laments the absurdity of being persecuted for heresy. Having proposed a commonsense solution to a theological question about Zoroaster’s prohibition of eating griffins, Zadig is consequently persecuted by Archimage Yebor. This cry against the power fanatics wield in defense of their beliefs is one of many examples of the veiled polemic against the Catholic Church Voltaire weaves through the novella.

“Opportunities for making mischief are found a hundred times a day, but the chance of doing a good turn comes but once a year; so it is written in the book of Zoroaster.”

The idea that it is easier to do bad than good appears more as the story progresses, as Zadig sees himself persecuted for doing good and others benefiting from doing evil. This saying illustrates the difficulty of living morally and the prevalence of immoral temptations. However, if taken literally, this saying clashes with the world depicted in the story. Zadig’s efforts proliferate opportunities to do good; before his exile from Babylon, he rarely strays from the moral path. Voltaire makes this contradiction between philosophies and reality a central motif in a way that consistently deconstructs any neat interpretations that Zadig or the reader construct.

“He believed that laws were made as much to protect the King’s subjects as to deter them from crime. His principal talent was in diffusing those truths which everyone tries to conceal, and from his first days in office he put this great talent into use.” 

In contrast to many other characters, Zadig is a committed agent of truth and consideration. As grand vizier, Zadig becomes his role, forming himself to its requirements, rather than imposing himself on it. This passage also describes the cunning essential to Zadig’s intelligence.

“At a moment when most people say nothing and others only murmur a few sacred words, Zadig blurted out, ‘The Queen.’ His partner fancied that the pleasures of the moment had at last brought him to his senses, and that what he had said to her was: ‘My Queen.’ But Zadig, still absentminded, uttered the name Astarte. The lady construed everything to her own advantage at this blissful juncture, and supposed that what he meant was: ‘You are more beautiful than Queen Astarte.’”

This scene exemplifies the motif that people interpret what they want to interpret in the world. The handmaid’s favorable interpretation is particularly comedic given the distance between it and what Zadig actually says. Voltaire populates the novella with people who project their minds on the world rather than confront reality.

“What then is human life? And of what use has virtue been to me? Two women have basely deceived me. The third, who is innocent, and more beautiful than either, is about to die. All the good I have done has brought curses upon me, and I have been raised to the summit of grandeur only to fall into the most horrible pit of misfortune. If I had been wicked, as so many others are, I should have been happy like them.”

Upon fleeing Babylon, Zadig experiences his first episode of doubting his moral path. He asks the two questions that will drive the rest of the novella as he tries to make sense of a world overturning his expectations. As this happens, he begins recalibrating his theory because of his fear that he is being persecuted for doing good. This conflict persists throughout most of the novella.

“He was lost in admiration for these vast spheres of light, which look to our eyes like feeble sparks only because the Earth, which is in reality a mere imperceptible point in the Universe, appears to our greedy outlook something noble and grand. Then he pictured to himself men as they really are, insects devouring one another on a tiny fragment of mud. The truth of this conception seemed to annihilate his misfortunes as he recalled to mind the utter nothingness of his own being and of Babylon too. His spirit soared into space; and with the grossness of the senses left behind, he meditated upon the unchangeable laws of the heavenly universe. But when he returned to himself a moment later, and looked into his heart, and thought that Astarte had perhaps perished for his sake, the Universe disappeared from his view, and all he saw in the whole range of Nature was Astarte dying and his ill-fated self.”

In his sublime meditation on the stars, Zadig finds the deliverance from worldly woes that he has searched for in love, philosophy, and society. He quickly realizes the impossibility of remaining in such a state for long; his problems soon return, overshadowing his experience of the insignificance of human affairs.

“But Zadig’s desire to fight for her was now gratified. ‘It’s other people’s turn,’ he replied. ‘You won’t catch me again.’”

Zadig’s response to Missouf’s second plea for help after she curses him for helping her the first time illustrates the way in which people act as agents of fate. By watching Missouf’s abduction without intervening, Zadig passively endorses retribution for her actions. Zadig recognizes that although things happen beyond his control, he can choose whether he tries to influence those events. This is the recognition that he can play some role in other people’s fates.

“[I]t makes me tremble to think of it, but it has to be endured. I am a devout woman, and I should lose my reputation. Everyone would laugh at me if I did not burn myself.”

The widow Almona’s explanation of her commitment to self-immolation following the tradition of the Pyre of Widowhood is comic but also expresses the truth that ostracization can be worse than death. Her statement about her devotion and losing her reputation also highlights that people will go as far as death to protect the identities they have constructed. Zadig makes Almona realize that her absurd attachment to tradition and her public identity is a perversion of her basic interest. 

“For Zadig it was a source of delight to see so many men from different countries met together in one place. It seemed to him that the universe was one large family, which had assembled at Balsora.”

Zadig’s sense of global community points to the theme that people are ultimately responsible to each other—as you are in a community—rather than to something above it—a king or a god. His delight belies his conviction that he is responsible to a higher power, but it also signals that there is a part of him receptive to the idea of interpersonal responsibility.

“So saying she revealed the most beautiful bosom that Nature had ever made. It looked like an ivory apple decked with a rose-bud, though that would have appeared as dull as madder-flowers on boxwood by comparison; even the whiteness of freshly washed lambs jumping out of a clear pool would have seemed a dull yellow. That bosom, those large black eyes, softly shining with tender fire, cheeks glowing like beautiful carnations and fresh cream, a nose quite unlike the tower upon Mount Lebanon, lips like twin rows of coral framing the most lovely pearls of the Arabian sea”

The richest passage of imagery in the text describes Almona, the widow Zadig convinces to renege on her commitment to self-sacrifice. The length and detail of this description serve to illustrate an extreme example of the power a person can have in changing a course of events as Almona uses her beauty to convince the incensed priests to drop the case against Zadig.

“‘From my earliest youth,’ replied his lordship. ‘I was manservant to an Arab; a clever fellow in his way, but my situation was unbearable. It vexed me to see that, though the earth belongs equally to all men, Fate had not kept me a corner in any part of it.’”

The bitterness the brigand Argobad expresses regarding his fate echoes that which Zadig often expresses at his misfortune. It also echoes the self-centered complaints of the fisherman and Itobad about feeling aggrieved.

“Once upon a time there was a grain of sand which complained of being an atom lying disregarded in the desert; a few years went by, and it became a diamond; now it is the brightest jewel in the crown of the King of India.”

The story that inspires Argobad to change his destiny serves not only as an allegory for his rags-to-riches success but as a template for Zadig’s misfortune. If the story is reversed, Zadig starts close to the crown jewel. Subsequently, his misfortune wears him down to a grain of sand, stripping him of his worth and recognizability as he wanders through the desert.

“As for Argobad, he went on drinking and telling stories; he kept saying that he was the happiest of men, and urged Zadig to make himself equally happy.”

This is the height of Zadig’s temptation and attendant bitterness. Argobad, who made his success through crime, flaunts his happiness in front of Zadig, who was convinced that morality was the only path to happiness. In the face of this example, Zadig doubts the truth of his conviction. Here, Argobad personifies the ultimate temptation Zadig must resist to complete his moral transformation.

“We fancy that we are less wretched when we are not alone in our sufferings. But, according to Zoroaster, that is the result not of evil destiny but of natural laws; for we find ourselves attracted towards another’s misfortunes, as like attracts like. The joy of a happy man would be an insult to our misery; but two unhappy wretches are like two weaks [sic] shrubs which lean upon each other and so resist the storm.”

Ironically, the subsequent interaction between Zadig and the fisherman serves not to alleviate Zadig’s misery but aggravate it. He feels compelled to rank his suffering higher than the fisherman’s; this compulsion belies his initial delight in finding the equally unhappy fisherman. This compulsion indicates that, in a sense, Zadig likes being alone in his suffering because it makes him feel special—an illusion he must free himself from to become happy.

“‘All-powerful Ormuzd!’ he continued, ‘you call on me to console this man, but on whom will you call to console me?’” 

The aggrieved Zadig laments that he cares for people while no one cares for him. This statement implies that he believes only he can provide consolation; no one else is skilled enough or generous enough to do so.

“The fisherman walked away thanking his stars, and Zadig ran off cursing his.”

After Zadig acts as the fisherman’s guardian angel, saving him from suicide and then giving him a large sum of money, he is disappointed that the universe offers no immediate reciprocation. The irony is that both men thank or curse the stars, comically oblivious to the fact that it is not the stars that are to thank or blame for their fates.

“I had always heard that Heaven invests the nobly-born with an air of grandeur which, at a word or a look, can humble any rash creatures who dare show the least disrespect. I spoke as a Queen; but I was treated as a handmaid.”

Astarte’s recounting of her humiliation in the Prince of Hyrcania’s harem highlights from a different angle that God has no presence on earth. Here, Astarte realizes that God has not endowed her with intrinsic nobility; it was merely the human structures that lent her a sense of nobility.

“Their farewells were as tender as their reunion had been. The moment of reunion and the moment of separation are the two greatest crises of life; so it is written in the Great Book of Zend.”

While it is clear why the moment of separation would qualify as one of life’s greatest crises, it is unclear why the reunion would be the other one. It could be that the reunion is fraught with fear and expectation as the lovers confront the other in person who has lived only in memory for so long. Alternatively, this could be a mockery of religious sayings: The saying from the book of Zend sounds nice because of its neat construction, but it is not as profound as it appears to be. This semantic ambiguity is typical of Voltaire’s prose in this novella—a device to challenge the reader to find meaning in something in which there may be none, just as Zadig tries to find meaning in the world.

“He walked along the banks of the Euphrates, revolving in his mind all the disgraces he had suffered, from the time of the woman who hated one-eyed men down to this adventure with his armour, and he persuaded himself that his evil star had destined him to be unhappy and that there was no help for it.

‘That’s what comes of waking up too late,’ said he. ‘If I had not slept so well, I should be King of ‘Babylon, and Astarte would be mine. Learning, virtue, and courage have only brought me misfortune.’”

The contrast between the narration (in which Zadig blames the heavens for his misfortune) and his monologue (in which he blames himself) is an intra-textual irony. This has the effect of splitting Zadig’s beliefs so that he appears to be thinking two contradictory things at once. This device lends this passage psychological realism, as Zadig appears not as a neatly constructed character but as a messy, complicated person.

“A murmur against Providence at last escaped him, and he was tempted to believe that all is governed by a cruel Destiny which persecutes good men and befriends knights in green.”

After holding out for so long, Zadig finally breeches his faith and dares to curse God. This change marks a significant transformation from the beginning of the story where he was convinced that good things came to good people. 

“‘No,’ said the hermit, ‘[emotions] are the winds which fill the sails of the ship. They overwhelm it sometimes; but without them it could not sail. Bile makes us sick and angry, but without bile we could not live. Everything in this life is dangerous, but everything is necessary’.”

While the angel’s proclamations read as satirical, their proclamations as the hermit ring of wisdom. As a staunch rationalist, Zadig disparages his emotions throughout the novel, viewing them as the cause of pain. His belief that reason trumps emotion is supported in his defeat of Missouf’s lover—who though stronger than Zadig is less composed—through superior tactics. Yet, as the hermit says, emotions are the driving force behind Zadig’s journey. Whether he is trying to escape them, reveling in his love for Astarte, or basking in equanimity under the stars, emotions are essential to his life.