Joris Huysmans

However he is visited by the specter of syphilis and begins to have nightmares. He remembers the acrobat Urania, so masculine that he felt they were exchanging their sexes, a cerebral curiosity attracting him to her lack of education or refinement. Then he slept with a ventroloquist. Then he fell for an effeminate boy. Jean spends time admiring the art of Gustave Moreau. Then he begins reviewing his vast library of books and a chapter is basically a biased summary of Latin literature, of which he dislikes the famous Virgil and Cicero in favor of the more obscure Petronius and Apuleius. But his nervous disorder keeps worsening. He cynically meditates on the paradox of abortion, punished by the law, when in fact the woman is merely saving an innocent from "the burden of life". He is aware that the world is changing, that brothels are closing and cafes are replacing them. The women still prostitute themselves, just in different ways. Meanwhile his health is deteriorating. He is not eating and getting weaker. He indulges in a lengthy soliloquy about French literature, of which he doesn't like the famous romantic writers while hailing Baudelaire, Verlaine, Corbiere, Mallarme, Villiers, d'Aurevilly. His favorite format is the prose poem. The process of "decomposition" that took centuries in Latin is happening under his nose in his age at a rapid pace. In music he loves Schubert's lieder. His hallucinations become so frequent and disturbing that Jean finally resorts to calling for a doctor. The doctor recommends that he abandons that lonely existence and returns to Paris. Jean loathes the thought of rejoining that debased nobility and that mediocre bourgeoisie, not to mention the greedy church. He sees his return as a calvary in a land that is killing intelligence, dignity and art. At the same time, as his health improves, Jean also feels a religious feeling reigniting inside him.