Kindle Thomas De Quincey ï Confessions of an English Opium Eater PDF Ä an ï

Describiendo las surrealistas alucinaciones el insomnio y las visiones de pesadilla que experimentó mientras consumía grandes dosis diarias de láudano el legendario relato de Thomas De Quincey sobre los placeres y los tormentos del opio forjó un vínculo entre la autoexpresión artística y la adicción y allanó el camino para futuras generaciones de escritores que experimentaron con el consumo de drogas de Baudelaire a Burroughs


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    The Opium Eaters a comedy based on the sleeping habits of Thomas de Quincey and Marcel ProustCharactersMarcel ProustThomas de QuinceyThe curtain goes up on a bedroom scene Two of the walls are cork lined the third is a bare stone wall roughly coated with Roman cement In the angle of the two cork lined walls is a narrow wrought iron bedstead covered with an eiderdown quilt and beside it a night table on which lie books papers and a little brass bell Against the stone wall there is a brass bedstead piled high with blankets and beside it a night table on which lie books papers and a little gold bottle There is someone lying on each of the bedsMarcel Proust Longtemps je me suis couché de bonne heurePropping himself on his elbow he becomes aware of the audience and immediately reaches for the bell which he rings impatiently while calling out for his servant to come and close the curtainsFrançoise Françoise il faut fermer les rideaux il y a une foule immense devant la fenêtreThomas de Quincey sitting up in his bed angrilyMy dear sir desist immediately from your tintinnabulous propensities These velvet drapes will be closed at the end of the scene and not before so you are wasting your breath which I see you have little enough of in calling for it to be done ahead of time And indeed your feeble efforts are doubly futile since the character you call for is not even in the play and the people you speak of are only the audience such a harmless group that is in no way to be feared unlike the horrible hoards who people my own dreams and can I caution you dear sir for I perceive you to be something of a valetudinarian against becoming a confirmed heautontimourousmenosMarcel Proust rubbing his eyesBougre Qui est ce qui me lance des propos incompréhensibles plein de mots intérminables et de phrases impénétrables?T de Q swinging his legs over the side of the bedAh you wonder who addresses you in such elaborately constructed language? Allow me to introduce myself He walks to the centre of the stage I am Thomas de Quincey and you and I are characters in a play and please note my dear sir that this play is in English and therefore oblige us by refraining from any outbursts à la française henceforth I might remind you also that this play is being staged in the year of our Lord 2013 to mark the bicentenary of the events contained in one of the chapters of the most famous of my works the essay with the much disputed title among my peers of 'Confessions' yes my dear sir not a sensational 'Diary of an Addict' but the humble Confessions of an English Opium Eater and a work further in which my contemporaries believed I was being too confidential and too communicativeMP rising from his bed to look at a calendar hanging on the wallBut if this is indeed the year 2013 then this play is surely meant to mark the centenary of the publication of my most famous work my 'Recherche' that single work on which I devoted the labour of my whole life and had dedicated my intellect blossoms and fruits to the slow and elaborate toil of constructing itT de Q holding up a documentI think that you are on the wrong page of the script my dear sir those are in fact my lines taken directly from page 175 of the 'Confessions' referring to my own life’s work begun upon too great a scale for the resources of the architect alas and which because of the very subject of this play was likely to stand as a memorial of hopes defeated of baffled efforts of materials uselessly accumulated of foundations laid that were never to support a super structure of the grief and the ruin of the architectMP moving towards the front of the stage and speaking directly to the audienceStrange how these words of his recall my own fears and doubts concerning the completion and future acclaim of the 'Recherche' although I always subscribed to the belief that true works of art are slow to receive their full recognition and must wait for a period when the author himself will have crumpled to dust This centenary celebration and your devoted presence proves me rightHe nibbles on the corner of his moustache and mumbles to himself Where are the Bergottes and the Blochs? All gone and forgotten while I alone have survived to become the keystone of modern literatureT de Q lying down again upon his bed But alas opium had a palsying effect on my intellectual facultiesMP walking across to T’s bedside table picking up the gold bottle and sniffing its contentsI too have often reflected on the kinds of sleep induced by the multiple extracts of ether of valerian of opiumT de Q closing his eyes I must now pass to what is the main subject of these confessions to the history of what took place in my dreams At night when I lay in my bed vast processions passed along in mournful pomp friezes of never ending stories that to my feelings were as sad and as solemn as if they were stories drawn from times before Oedipus or Priam before Tyre before Memphis MP massaging his templesI feel something quiver in me shift try to rise the glimmer of a visual memory the elusive eddying of stirred up coloursa magic lantern full of impalpable iridescences multicoloured apparitions where legends are depicted as in a wavering momentary stained glass windowT de Q in a dreamy voice A theatre seemed suddenly opened and lighted up within my brain which presented nightly spectacles of than earthly splendour As the creative state of the eye increased a sympathy seemed to arise between the waking and the dreaming states of the brain in one point that whatsoever I happened to call up and to trace by a voluntary act upon the darkness was very apt to transfer itself to my dreamsMP going back to sit on the side of his bedYes what one has meant to do during the day one accomplishes only in one’s dreams that is to say after it has been distorted by sleep into following another line than one would have chosen when awake The same story branches off and has a different endingT de Q All this and other changes in my dreams were accompanied by deep seated anxiety and gloomy melancholy such as wholly incommunicable by words MP lying down But my sadness was only increased by those multi coloured apparitions of the lanternT de Q The sense of space and in the end the sense of time were both powerfully affected Buildings landscapes c were exhibited in proportions so vastly as the bodily eye is not fitted to receiveMP closing his eyes In Combray I moved through the churcha space with so to speak four dimensions the fourth being Time extending over the centuriesT de Q The minutist incidents of childhood or forgotten scenes of later years were often revivedMP I have many pictures preserved by my memory of what Combray was during my childhoodT de Q The following dreama Sunday morning in MayEaster Sundayright before me lay the scene which could really be commanded from that situation but exalted as was usual and solemnised by the power of dreamsthe hedges were rich with white rosesMP It was at Easterin the month of May that I rememberin the churchlittle branches of buds of a dazzling whitenessT de Q I find it impossible to banish the thought of death when I am walking alone in the endless days of summerMP That summer day seemed as dead as immemorially ancient asa mummy T de QZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzMPZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzAudienceZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzReadersZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz