The Gods Will Have Blood (the Gods Are Athirst)

The Gods Will Have Blood (the Gods Are Athirst)

Language: English

Pages: 124

ISBN: 1420947761

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The Gods Will Have Blood (the Gods Are Athirst)

Language: English

Pages: 124

ISBN: 1420947761

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Anatole France's work "Les dieux ont soif" translates to "The Gods Will Have Blood" or "The Gods are Athirst." Both translations of the title accurately depict the nature of this novel set during the French Revolution. Young artist Évariste Gamelin is the right-hand man of Jacobin, Marat, and Robespierre and eventually becomes appointed as a juror on the Revolutionary Tribunal during the heinous Reign of Terror. Though Gamelin fully believes in the ideas of revolution and liberty, he uses his position of power to terrorize his friends and family who do not agree with his zealous ideals. Yet his bloodthirsty nature is put to an end when he, along with his mentor Robespierre, is beheaded during the aftermath of the Thermidorian Reaction. "The Gods Will Have Blood" was published in 1912, and author Anatole France received the Nobel Prize for Literature in honor of his literary achievements. The text shows the dangers a fervently angry country and the terror that can arise when the public is allowed to dole out its own version of justice with random death sentences. It shows the consequences when humanity is consumed by an idea, even a good idea, that is allowed to become more important than the people who hold it.

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Her inclination to be on the winning side had carried her smoothly from the Feuillant to the Girondins and to the Mountain, though at the same time a spirit of compromise, a passion to be liked, and a certain genius for intrigue kept her still in touch with the aristocrats and the counter-revolutionaries. She was a very gregarious person, frequenting coffee-houses, theatres, fashionable cafés, gaming-rooms, salons, newspaper offices and the antechambers of the Committees. The Revolution afforded

the massacre. He returned to his house, tore his uniform off, and shouted: “I swore an oath to die for Liberty. Liberty is no more, and so I die.” And he blew his brains out.’ As the peaceful citizens were examining the preparations for the Festival, one could see that their faces revealed as complete a lack of joy in life as their lives were joyless: to them the greatest of events became as insignificant and as dull as they felt themselves to be. Couple after couple passed by, their children

Madame Arman. It was unsuccessful and her death a few months later was hastened by his break with her. There is no doubt that for several years France suffered poignant remorse at his treatment of the woman who had been the great love of his life, yet his release from her domination appears to have brought about a rejuvenation. Now well into his sixties he began a number of love-affairs with women much younger than himself. What was eventually, however, to prove more significant was his

held a young girl, palely beautiful, over whose eyes the shadow of death had drawn like a voluptuous veil a liquid film of tears. At such a sight, which magistrates might not be affected, either by tenderness or by irritation? Which might not, in his secret, depraved heart, have imagined the sacred intimacies of the beautiful body before him, which represented to his morbid fancy at one and the same time the body of a living woman and the body of a dead woman? Which magistrate might not have

it was yet only too true! Fouquier himself was weaving the plots, and it was simply to ruin Robespierre that he had sacrificed fifty-seven victims with solemn ceremony, having them led to their death each wearing the red shirt of a parricide. To what sort of criminal pity was France yielding? It would be necessary to save her from it in spite of herself, and when she cried: ‘Have mercy!’ to stop our ears and to strike. Alas! Fate had decided that the fatherland should curse its saviours. Well,

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