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MontesquieuPersian Letters
Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 1721A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Letters 72-112Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Letters 72-112 Summary
Rica writes to Usbek about “a universal pronouncer” (100)—a man with a ready opinion on anything. He then writes to *** about a “tribunal called the French Academy” (100). He perceives its members’ purpose to be “to babble incessantly” (100). Again to Usbek, he muses on the feigned, insulting superiority of the crass in French society.
Usbek informs Rhedi of the hypocritical nature of Christians and their religion, which is “subject of disputation” rather than “sanctification” (102). He writes to Ibben on suicide in Christianity: The dead are “dragged ignominiously through the streets” (103)—laws he considers “most unjust” (103) and wonders if, in certain cases like illness, suicide should be allowed. He argues that men “are nothing but a delicate, tiny atom” (104) in the universe, so the decision to end one’s life should not carry such a criminal burden. Ibben’s reply considers the duality of body and soul and how it can be governed.
Rica sends to Usbek a Frenchman’s letter on Spaniards and the Portuguese, who loathe French people. He sharply satirizes the customs of the two nations, saying of the men: “First and foremost they are pious, and secondly, jealous” (106). Of colonizers, he writes that “they don’t yet know their own continent” (107).
Usbek continues his thoughtful letters to Rhedi by examining French legislators (“men of narrow views” [107]) and their laws, “immersed […] in useless details” (108). Soon he receives a missive from the head black eunuch who has decided to buy a new female slave, finding her exquisite upon careful yet passionless examination. Usbek next writes to Rhedi on the different ways of governing. He prefers tolerant government, if it maintains obedience and “conforms better to reason” (110). Degrees of punishment should also be logical and adequate. Harsh governments inspire rebellions.
A Persian envoy to Russia, Nargum, writes to Usbek about the glory of the Tartars, “the true master of the universe” (111), and their warrior skills. He laments their lack of historians to record their conquests fully.
Rica writes an insightful letter to Ibben on men who rarely speak and those who speak ceaselessly “without saying anything” (112). He is especially impressed by those who let their clothes, wigs, and canes speak for them with “the sharp rap of the doorknocker” (113).
Usbek relates to Rhedi ideas concerning justice (“a relationship of accepted values and common interests” [113]) and God, who logically must be just. He believes “justice is eternal, and independent of human conventions” (114).
Rica recounts to *** his visit to the sanatorium Les Invalides and extols the virtues of veterans who “observe as strict a discipline” as if they were still in “the presence of an enemy” (115).
In his letter to Ispahan friend Mirza, Usbek writes of Persian kings’ attempt to remove all infidels from the country or convert them. Had it succeeded, the attack would have ruined the nation based upon the crafts and skills of many religious beliefs. He concludes that “history is full of wars of religion” (116), implying those waged in Europe as well. Soon after Rica writes to *** about family courts in France, surveying wronged women, or “seduced young girls depict men as far worse than they are” (118); divorcees who “reveal the mysteries of the bridal night” (118); and the irony in the decisions of the majority when judges “with poor judgement are too numerous to count” (118). Rica next expounds on “society men,” raconteurs, and entertainers. They are everywhere and can get to any event, be it a birth or a funeral.
Usbek writes an unusually short and bitter letter to Rhedi on what constitutes a great man in France: a man “able to conceal his idleness with a busy air, or a simulated appetite for pleasure” (120). He pens another pensive letter to Ibben on the significance of glory in a man’s life, its notion differing from man to man and from nation to nation; the freer the country the more desire for glory. The French also recognize honor, especially as bestowed by the king. In his succeeding letter, Usbek elaborates on the French “point of honour” (122): In most morally charged circumstances “duels solved every problem” (122). The punishments for such practices are now severe, yet duels as points of honor persist. Writing to Rustan, Usbek talks of a man “masquerading as an ambassador of Persia” (216) in France, referring to a sworn emissary whose incompetence causes suspicions of imposture.
Usbek informs Rhedi that King Louis XIV has died. Since his great-grandson is only five years old, a regent is put in place. He has, in a brilliant move, persuaded the parliament, whose “authority is always weak” (124), that he should be in charge of duties beyond the king’s testament. Usbek then writes to his brother, a santon (monk) at the monastery in Casbin, about the foundational tenets of religion—the hermits and their experiences—and how such allegorical stories in Christianity serve to “heighten our awareness of the misery of the human condition” (125). This inspires Usbek to discuss with Rhedi the public laws as tenets of organized society and how European monarchs abuse the “shameful art” (126) of lawmaking to avoid responsibility. Next he delves into the analogy of solving issues between individuals and issues between nations. To Usbek, the former are much more complicated. He states there are two types of just war: defending your country, and helping an ally defend his. In international law, he finds four resources to ensure justice: “to repudiate the alliance with the offending nation” (127), to prevent a prince from enjoying his advantages, acts of reprisal, and finally war.
At this time, the head eunuch informs Usbek that he has bought a new beauty for his brother’s seraglio. He concludes that “the more women we have to choose among, the less trouble they are” (129), yet begs his master to return from his travels to ensure peace and order in his harem, instead of becoming a “futile ghost of an authority” (129).
Usbek informs Hassein, dervish of the mountain of Jeron, of French philosophers who follow “the path of human reason” (129) into laws “that are universal, immutable, and eternal” (130). He then indicates ideas driving Descartes’s mechanics: (1) Bodies move in a straight line unless deflected, and (2) a body moving in circle tends to leave the orbit in pursuit of a straight line of movement. Usbek sees the reaches of science as miracles and admits his dislike for the written style of the Qur’an with its “great number of puerile passages” (131). Later he writes to Ibben of new laws curtailing tax collectors’ ability to amass enormous wealth through their work.
Rica sends Rhedi an ironically witty letter on the fleeting nature of French fashion. He relates how the French mistrust foreign ideas in trivial matters yet turn to them in matters of great import, such as law. The Roman-based “abundance of laws [...] is equally burdensome to justice and to judges” (134) and is “a disgrace to human reason” (135).
Usbek writes to *** about scholars who interpret the papal bull (Constitution), and their self-importance. This is a rare instance where Usbek directly inserts himself into a reported conversation, proving to be quite cynical. With Ibben, he discusses the differences between European monarchies, which are “unstable, and invariably degenerate into despotism or republicanism” (136), and Persian sultanates. The absolute authority of Persian rulers is reflected in the way they can have people killed on a whim, whereas European rulers tend to avoid that. He next relates that the invisibility of individual Persian rulers makes them expendable in the public’s eye, because they connect the rule with a principle and not the ruler. In France and other European monarchies, it is the opposite: People are attached to the idea of a particular monarch and what he does for them. Usbek’s third letter to Ibben ponders the laws and customs in England: “Submission and obedience are the virtues on which the English pride themselves the least” (139). He writes that in England, “no unlimited power can be legitimate” (139).
Rhedi discusses with Usbek the dangers of scientific advances. After the invention of gunpowder and bombs, “there no longer exists, anywhere on earth, any asylum from injustice and violence” (140). Discoveries of new lands have led to destruction of peoples, and ignorance in sciences is much safer than advancement. Usbek replies he suspects Rhedi “despise[s] all learning” (141), while he believes in the regulation of mass warfare by international laws. He also makes points about wars now end more quickly and that the invention of bombs means there is “almost no hand-to-hand fighting” (142). Usbek also claims it is passive enjoyment of arts that emasculates men, not the pursuit of them; it is necessary to work at nourishing the imagination.
Rica writes to Ibben of the young king and the secret power of women in French society; they themselves “form a sort of government, whose ever-busy members assist and oblige one another” (145). As mistresses, friends, and confidantes, they are in the position to have the men’s ear and to persuade them to act upon their wishes.
Usbek informs *** about literary periodicals that “pamper laziness” (146), especially as they review only new books, always praising them in fear of making enemies. Rica, on the other hand, sends *** an ironic letter on the French University: “Where there are more wise men, there you will also find less wisdom” (147). He further writes on the serious role of pretty women in society. Such women need to be hypervigilant in organizing an entertaining social life: “Her gravest concern is not to have a good time, but to look as if she’s having a good time” (148).
Usbek pens a brief note to *** about a speech by a general who proposes alleviating recent losses in battle by composing a song of penetrating voices that vilifies the enemy.
Letters 72-112 Analysis
Usbek and Rica continue to explore their respective interests through a series of letters that grow more philosophical and thoughtful in nature. It is now clear that Montesquieu’s main preoccupation is with Enlightenment-era issues concerning religion, state governance, and culture. This is further evidenced by the fact that only two letters deal with the events of the seraglio (and they deal only with the day-to-day “business” of keeping it stocked), which has until now been a strongly cohesive element in the narrative. Thus, the central part of the book gradually becomes a treatise on the aforementioned elements while the novelistic structure falls temporarily into the background.
Usbek issues a series of letters pondering the philosophy of religious thought as well as the practices established to ensure faithful obedience by the believers, which no longer seem to work. Montesquieu’s criticism of the Catholic Church at this junction also brings into question the way its constituents treat religious observation. He depicts them as rebels from the “yoke” of the church without giving them credit for having rationally reached the decision to disbelieve a flawed system (Letter 75). It is again advantageous to use Usbek’s character in this context, as his Muslim faith and cultural background place him beyond such irrational reactions, allowing him to observe the French people’s behavior dispassionately. Being a very rational and learned man, he fails to understand how even the “incredulity” of the French is not based upon logical observation but upon a largely intuitive and ambiguous sense of the world.
Closely connected to this issue are Usbek’s deliberations on the church and French society’s view of suicide, which caused significant trouble for Montesquieu upon publication (Letter 76). A French law of the time treated suicide as both a criminal and a religious offence, and it was considered one of the gravest felonies. In 1751 Jansenist priest Jean-Baptiste Gaultier published a pamphlet dedicated to the Persian Letters, demanding it be censored for the profound anti-religious attitudes it expressed, especially regarding suicide. As is clear from the text, Usbek’s musings offer an alternative, non-religious view on the act, especially in extenuating circumstances (such as incurable illness). Montesquieu further elaborates on this idea in his most famous work, The Spirit of the Laws (1748), which combines his thoughts on suicide with his belief that a nation’s climate and geographical location might contribute to susceptibility to depression and suicide.
Usbek’s Islamic faith is also utilized to full effect in his consideration of the allegories of early Christian hermits (Letter 94). Montesquieu again brings his character to the verge of blasphemy by infusing his thoughts on the founding elements of religious belief with the idea that they should be treated as no more than stories rich in meaning. They serve to point out that the threat to one’s soul always comes from within, from our inner demons, and not from external influences by the devil or some similar entity. For him, it is the heart and the brain—i.e., the emotions and the thinking process—that create the threat to our peace of mind. Montesquieu’s idea of inner conflict represents a highly evolved thought for the 18th century, foreshadowing the concepts of psychology and psychiatry, as well as Jungian notions of archetypes, collective consciousness, and subconscious.
Finally, Usbek’s recalling of the story of the Persian rulers’ attempt to cleanse the country of infidels (Letter 86) is a direct allusion to France’s treatment of Huguenots (Calvinist Protestants) in the 16th and 17th centuries. Montesquieu openly postulates that the country was thus robbed of those who were most useful to it in many ways, as skilled workers, artisans, and intellectuals—a bold idea for the time. The collusion of church and state in such cruel treatment of dissenters (beginning with the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre of 1572, as sanctioned by the ruling monarch) reveals the close ties between the two officially separate entities. This letter also represents an excellent example of literary analogy.
Montesquieu’s views on the governing bodies of France and French law are also critical. Through Usbek’s letters to Rhedi, the author debates the advantages and disadvantages of tolerant and despotic governments, expressing his ideal of a government that operates under the rational laws of economy (Letter 81). This unequivocally points to two mainstays of the Enlightenment: the belief in reason as the ruling force behind life-changing and state-governing decisions, and the economical use and distribution of assets and ideas amongst the people. Such notions led to the possibility of the French Revolution as the means to stop the excesses of the monarchy and aristocracy. Accordingly, the author condemns myopic legislators led by their self-interests and the interests of various bodies vying for preference under the aged king’s lazy eye. A good example of this is the situation concerning the tax collectors and the inordinate riches they amass through their work, and the attempts made to implement functional anti-corruption laws (Letter 99). It is worth noting that in reply to Rhedi’s stated fear of the advancement of science, Usbek shows what we can now perceive as a naïve belief in international law’s ability to enact full and effective control over new mass weapons (Letter 107). This offers a glimpse into Montesquieu’s essentially idealistic nature rarely seen in Persian Letters and his other writings, marked as they are by irony and sarcasm. His views on “just wars” and the four levels of ensuring justice through international law are another case in point. We could use this slight discrepancy in authorial stance as fertile ground for balancing Rhedi and Usbek’s two points of view.
Historically, the death of King Louis XIV in 1715 introduced the period of Regency when Philippe II, Duke of Orléans, ruled the country for eight years. This period was marked by a distinct change in policy, especially toward the arts (the ceasing of censorship) and France’s new allies (Great Britain, Austria, and Holland), which changed the landscape of French society. It is interesting to note that Montesquieu shows an ambiguous if not wholly negative attitude toward the ruling class, including the new regent and his decisions. This is marked in Usbek’s letter on English laws and customs (Letter 105); he obviously favors John Locke, an English philosopher and one of the original figureheads of Enlightenment, and his idea that every nation owns an unalienable right to rebel against rulers who stifle a country’s democracy. We can find further evidence of Montesquieu’s ambiguity toward the Regency in his thoughts on literary journals (Letter 109).
Meanwhile, Rica, faithful to his less brooding nature, continues examining French society and its culture and customs. His vibrantly expressed thoughts on the people he meets are still a source of observational wit and irony, and Montesquieu carefully arranges them as counterpoints to Usbek’s more philosophical interpretations. This is seen in the structure of his letters, which are mostly organized as anecdotes written in a conversational and sometimes gossipy style that is much different from Usbek’s careful diction and complex syntax. Another device used here is the inclusion of additional “letters within letters,” especially to enrich Rica’s opinionated writings.
This does not mean that Rica’s observations are less poignant. His views on the French Academy and University are mordantly funny (Letters 73 and 110), and his description of what constitutes “class and crass” in French society is one of the novel’s best examples of hard irony (Letter 74). (This period in French culture was marked by the rise of the salons, homes of aristocrats and the rich bourgeoisie, where one could encounter both resistance to official state policies and the ignorant vulgarity of upstarts.)
Rica’s perception of the swift changes of contemporary fashions and the important place French women hold not just in cultural but also political life is conditioned by his characterization. For example, Rica perceives French women in a more profound way because he is unencumbered by Usbek’s experience as a master of a harem, which has shaped the way Usbek understands and treats females. Usbek’s thoughts on women tend to focus on the essential traits of female nature, while Rica understands women as human beings as well as the species that their Prophet decreed to be one degree lower than men. In fact, all Rica’s observations foreshadow his later reluctance to leave Paris—his youth makes him more receptive of the place even as he criticizes it, and he is more easily accustomed to it, whereas Usbek suffers from homesickness and depression.
Finally, Montesquieu offers the first of several glimpses into a more serious Rica. He is moved by the visit to the sanatorium. The building, finished at the turn of the 18th century, is now considered one of the crowning cultural and architectural achievements of Louis XIV’s reign, but significantly, then as today, it is sharply juxtaposed with perceived incompetencies in his handling of foreign policy and colonization, which led to an extraordinary number of casualties (Letter 85). Seeing the family courts, where Rica remarks upon French men’s general loss of authority, also affects him (Letter 87). This helps Montesquieu achieve two things. First, it reminds us of Rica’s traditional Muslim upbringing, which although shifting in balance remains the prism through which he perceives the French. Second, through this essential shifting of balances, it builds the image of two institutions that have much going for and working against them.
