Candide begins lightheartedly, then almost immediately gives way to caustic satire and morbidity. As I follow Candide in his misfortunes, I wonder if Voltaire wasn’t a bit too cynical in personal life.
Amid all the inhumanity stands a man that can seem to do no wrong. In a way, Candide’s naivete and philosophical curiosity grant us reprieves from his misfortunes. In pitting Candide against the most gruesome of adversities, Voltaire seems to test the limits of Leibniz’s determinism. He thus paints a world in which all is black or white, evil or good.
Or so it seems.
Occasionally, Voltaire suggests a darkness in Candide that is seemingly unpreventable. He does so by touting Candide’s goodness (especially in juxtaposition to the evil) which ultimately has the opposite and curious effect of sarcasm. This can be seen in the following excerpts:
“But our good Westphalian had received from the old woman, along with his suit of clothes, a fine sword. Out it came, and though his manners were of the gentlest, in short order he laid the Israelite stiff and cold on the floor, at the feet of the lovely Cunegonde.”
“I have killed my old master, my friend, my brother-in-law; I am the best man in the world, and here are three men I’ve killed already, and two of them were priests.”
Yet, despite each crime, there was always someone who unhesitatingly gave Candide a helping hand, which only reaffirmed the reader’s belief that Candide can do no wrong.
We live in a world where people believe themselves to be right and others to be less right. In reality, embedded in each moral act is something corrupt and vice versa. The good and the malevolent are inseparable.