"Vous, insolent!" repondit le baron, "Vous auriez l'impudence d'epouser ma soeur qui a soixante et douze quartiers!"
Am I the luckiest girl, or what? While upstairs on the 4th floor of Powell's labeling used french books, I came upon this perfect treasure. A late 1800's edition of Voltaire's "Candide", complete with gilded leather spine, marbled endpapers, rich black and white engravings by Adrien Moreau, and it's all in nearly immaculate condition! The engravings are covered in tissue and completely clean. An the print is big enough so that I can read the french without hurting my brain too badly. C'est formidable! My personal library is quite proud to welcome it.
And I picked up this mod little biography from 1960 called "Voltaire Lui-Meme" (Voltaire Himself) to help me understand the man, himself.
I remember the cafe in Paris called "Le Procope", it is the oldest restaurant in Paris, and was where Voltaire wrote "Candide" in 1758. I remember the tiny, cobbled avenue it was on and the way the ancient walls bulged out over the sidewalk. Evidently it was quite the literary hangout -- Balzac, Beaumarchais, Hugo all came here. During the revolution Marat, Robespierre and Danton met here. Even Napoleon stopped by. And so can you!