assertions. He is simply engaging in idle speculation. Moi, a philosopher who seems to be a stand-in for Diderot the philosophe, has little trouble swatting away his claims and makes several convincing counterarguments.
Geniuses are of tremendous social value, Diderot-moi claims, and help the masses understand their prejudices and errors. In direct contradiction to Rousseau’s claims in the First Discourse, he contends they also promote patriotism. He avers that people only honor nations that produce genius. Interestingly, one of his formulations is Homeric. Referencing the dramatist Jean Racine, he states: “A thousand years from now he will draw tears, will be admired by men all over the earth, will inspire compassion, human kindness, love. People will wonder who he was, from what country, and France will be envied.”168 Like Achilles, Racine will earn cultural immortality through his literary genius. Naturally, Diderot-moi defends this fact in democratic terms. After conceding that Racine was by reputation a man of low moral character, he constructs a cost-benefit analysis in which he proves that nonetheless he is responsible for far more good than harm. Frenchmen, and indeed all Europeans, for a millennium will take enjoyment and become better people as a result of his plays. Only a few individuals, by contrast, had to endure him as a person. The same is true of Voltaire and even nephew-lui’s uncle. If a few people are hurt by Voltaire’s thin-skinned replies to criticism or Uncle Rameau’s selfishness, the nation as a whole is likely to benefit for centuries to come. Furthermore, in some instances, the very vices people despise in geniuses are partly responsible for their wonderful achievements. Diderot-moi speculates that the talents of the painter Jean-Baptiste Geuze and those of Voltaire cannot be decoupled from their vanity and hypersensitivity to criticism, respectively.
In addition, he quickly disposes of the claim that geniuses are evil and cause much of the misery in the world. While they suffer from vices, they are no more vice ridden than the population at large. Fools are no less likely to be knaves than are geniuses. The only difference is that the vices of the masses do not produce great cultural treasures. Finally, Diderot-moi convinces the nephew that critics of genius hypocritically pretend to be geniuses themselves and thus do not make sincere criticisms. It is easy enough to imagine that Diderot had Rousseau in mind when devising this argument.
After adequately defending geniuses against the charges they are useless and dangerous, Diderot proceeds to blame the masses and the wealthy for amour-propre and the moral degeneracy in Paris. He develops his case through the nephew, who hypocritically reveals that he would like nothing more than to be a genius almost immediately after suggesting they are evil. The nephew, however, has no hope of attaining the status of genius in the conventional way. His musical talent is middling, and he cannot follow in his uncle’s foot steps. Undeterred, he invents a new form of genius that he insists is just as real and admirable as his uncle’s. He boasts to Diderot-moi that he is a “master scoundrel” who excels in vice. That is, he makes a good living pretending to be a fool so he can live off wealthy and noble patrons. Strangely, wealthy Parisian families like having fools around. They are a source of endless amusement and presumably liven up tedious dinner parties. According to the nephew-lui, there is a science to being a parasite. He has to master the art of “pantomime,” which requires that he know how to lie, forswear, flatter, gossip, diffuse controversy, perfectly time his comments, and so forth. There is even a physical side to this playacting. The nephew-lui claims to have developed a variety of facial expressions and forms of physical posture to help make himself agreeable to his hosts. In general, his genius requires him to have a keen understanding of human nature. He must have an acute sense of what people need to hear, and how and when they need to hear it. Thus, while he appears to be an ignorant, lazy, impudent ne’er-do-well, he in fact is an expert at manipulation.
In making this argument, Diderot relies heavily on Rousseau’s psychological concepts and critique of Paris. The nephew-lui’s moral psychology is described as a combination of amour-propre and amour de soi-même. The desire of the nephew to be a genius appears to result from amour-propre. He admits he is “full of envy” and resentment when he witnesses genius like his uncle and desperately wants to be praised as a unique member of the species. He also concedes that he likes hearing salacious gossip about geniuses because it lessens his envy and, he says, “brings me closer to them; makes me bear my mediocrity more easily.”169 In general, he wants to expose all great things as mere vanity and pull all decent people to pieces.170 He likewise takes great pride in playing a fool rather than being one and taking advantage of the rich. He insists to Diderot-moi that his patrons are the real fools and knaves, and delights in recounting an anecdote about one of his fellow genius-scoundrels, the Renegade from Avignon, who gets his hands on his Jewish patron’s money by turning him over to the Inquisition. The nephew even admits, to foreshadow one of Rousseau’s arguments I explain in Chapter 3, that his amour-propre results in a new desire—the libido dominandi, or the desire to control and dominate people. When he contemplates the possibility of attaining wealth and power, he proudly announces, “I love bossing people and I will boss them.”171
Yet, the nephew eventually confesses that he chooses vice over virtue and being a fool over being a musician for reasons best explained by amour de soi-même. A life of vice, he claims, is more lucrative than one of virtue. As the dialogue progresses, he seems to care less about being a genius and more about money. At one point, he asserts to Diderot-moi: “Gold, gold is everything, and everything without gold, is nothing.”172 Rather than defend his chosen occupation on the grounds that it is a form of genius, he suggests it is the surest way to support himself. The nephew explains that the Parisian economy is “hell” for many people. It is unforgiving to everyone but the rich and talented, and a large portion of the city’s inhabitants live lives of desperation and poverty. Mediocre musicians like himself cannot hope to make an honest living. Thus, he opts for vice and hypocrisy as the most reliable means with which to avoid poverty and find some enjoyment in life. Best to playact the fool than make an honest living as a music tutor.
Diderot departs from Rousseau’s view of amour-propre in another important respect as well. He has the nephew reject the idea that amour-propre is born of society. Rather, it is a fact of nature that needs no societal catalyst. Referring to his young son as a “little savage,” which seems to be a reference to Rousseau’s primitive humans in the Second Discourse, the nephew asserts that his son “he would of his own accord want to be richly dressed, magnificently fed, liked by men and loved by women, and concentrate on himself all the goods of life.”173 Nature makes us prefer ourselves to and wished to be esteemed by everyone, not civilization.
In any case, much of Diderot’s portrait of the nephew is consistent with the account of moral psychology and the characterization of Paris by Rousseau. His narrative is constructed, however, so he can defend the opposite politics. Specifically, he seeks to exonerate geniuses, which presumably includes the philosophes, from Rousseau’s indictment that they are responsible for the corruptions of the age. Contrary to Rousseau, the intellectuals in Rameau’s Nephew are not considered to be the best of the species and leaders of French culture. Instead, they are “queer people” who are badly out of step with the predominant values of the day. Although they are not perfect and include numerous bad actors among their ranks, Diderot still believes they tend to be as virtuous as the population at large and have more social value. The villains in his dialogue are the nobles and the wealthy, who hoard all of society’s resources and reward knaves and vice rather than virtue and talent.
Finally, it is arguable that Diderot-moi’s proposed solution to the nephew’s unfortunate predicament is a veiled criticism of Rousseau. At the conclusion of the dialogue, the nephew is encouraged by Diderot-moi to take Diogenes as a role model.174 Rather than slavishly conform to Paris convention and value vice and gold, he could stop being driven by both amour-propre and amour de soi-même and follow Diogenes by dedicating himself to principles such as moderation and virtue. Notably, Rousseau was viewed by many of his contemporaries as a modern-day Diogenes.175 Perhaps this reference is a reminder to Rousseau that he has failed to live up to his own philosophy. He still cares too much what people think of him and