Accueil

Théophile Dondey de Santeny was born in Paris 1811. He spent his professional life as an unassuming government functionary. He spent his free time as a poet and devoted member of the Petit Cénacle, a multidisciplinary pack of artists, writers, etc. who made it a point of politico-artistic pride to be, generally, as ultra-Romantic, as eminently offbeat, and as unsettling to the bourgeoisie as they could possibly manage.

In 1833, Théophile Dondey published—under the whimsical anagram Philothée O'Neddy—a book of poems called Feu et flamme. It's the only complete work he ever published, and it is by turns ecstatic and morose, worshipful and apostate, triumphal and self-absorbed, well-executed and just a touch clumsy. It is worth keeping around.

So I'll post ten lines of it, in English translation, per day.

As far as I know, Feu et flamme only partially exists in English, and "partially" only because of what appears here.

There's a good chance you know more than I do about French and/or French history (especially French history). Constructive criticisms, contextualizations, and things I've missed are welcome.

If you're interested in reading more about O'Neddy and friends, you should read Olchar Lindsann's estimable blog and poke around Orlo Williams' Vie de Bohème: A Patch of Romantic Paris.

Ten lines per day! They start tomorrow.