Henri Cantel

Novels by Henri Cantel (✦1825-†1878)

• Amours et Priapées

Friend of Vigny and one of Baudelaire's first disciples. Henri Cantel is the author of a masterpiece of erotic poetry, reissued for the first time in a century and a half. Without the raw genius of a Pierre Louÿs, it is part of a great tradition of erotic poetry to which authors as diverse as Jean de La Fontaine or Théophile Gautier have given their letters of nobility. In these seventy poems, many of which are sonnets, Cantel declines the two themes of its title, often unhappy loves, with very Baudelairean romantic accents, and erotic poems which, although presented as priapic, often represent scenes lesbians.

Private Case: 328. CANTEL, (Henri). Amours et Priapées.

• Impressions Et Visions

Impressions and visions / by Henri Cantel; preceded by a preface by Hippolyte Babou

Date of the original edition: 1859

This book is part of a heritage conservation policy for works of French literature set up with the BNF.

HACHETTE LIVRE and the BNF thus offer a catalog of unavailable titles, the BNF having digitized these works and HACHETTE LIVRE printing them on demand.

Some of these works reflect currents of thought characteristic of their time, but which today would be considered reprehensible.

They nevertheless belong to the history of ideas in France and are likely to be of scientific or historical interest.

• Le Roi Polycarpe: Moeurs Du Temps Suivi de l'Émeraude

(en: King Polycarp: customs of the time) : Date of the original edition: 1879

Followed by L'émeraude / Henri Cantel; with a preface by M. Charles Buet

• Son Mouchoir, Poëme Galant

{en:His handkerchief, a gallant poem) Date of the original edition: 1868

• Le Prince Domenti: Scènes de la Vie Géorgienne

Slowly sitting on a river between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea, the city of Tiflis is the meeting point of Asia and Europe. Twenty religions, twenty different peoples come together here, and the most curious contrasts come together to surprise and delight the traveler. park in the daytime on these streets scorched by a fiery sun, and strange paintings will soon vie for your attention. A caravan of a hundred camels advanced heavily, laden with merchandise from Persia, Bessarabia, and India; their bells ring monotonously, muffled, and involuntarily one thinks of the gloomy silence of the steppes. Four buffaloes harnessed to their necks slowly drag a wretched cart carrying an entire Tatar or Georgian family. A gallop of Cossacks, their long spears in their fists, raising streams of dust. Here is a Greek funeral which files by, followed by mourners who tear the air with their cries; poor women in rags hold out a thin hand to you; a peasant meets a priest, he kisses his hand and receives his blessing in exchange; a Russian soldier, in front of a church, crosses himself with all his might and bows. Where is that poor barefoot Georgian going on the hot slab, all wrapped up in a big piece of white cloth? At the church, to fulfill a wish... a Russian soldier, in front of a church, crosses himself with all his might and bows. Where is that poor barefoot Georgian going on the hot slab, all wrapped up in a big piece of white cloth? At the church, to fulfill a wish... a Russian soldier, in front of a church, crosses himself with all his might and bows. Where is that poor barefoot Georgian going on the hot slab, all wrapped up in a big piece of white cloth? At the church, to fulfill a wish...

• Héraklé: Scènes de la Vie Géorgienne

For the Christians of the East, especially for those of Georgia, Easter is the most solemn feast of the year. The fast of the car me was long and severe, and if the Easter day is the anniversary of the resurrection of Christ, it also seems to be a resurrection for the Christians, who call it the feast of the f tes, the triumph of triumphs. On the eve, a little before midnight, the thirty steeples of Tiflis shake, and joyous flights, disturbing the nocturnal silence, reverberate from one mountain to another, as if the bells, mixing without ceasing their resounding voices, mysterious prayers changed between them. I will never forget the impression this strange concert made on me the first time I heard it. I saw gentlemen and serfs coming out of the houses; the crowd ran into the churches, where the priests blessed the breads and meats brought to them. We approached each other with happy smiles, we embraced each other, and each one repeated the sacramental formula: Christ is risen. The following day, Sunday, Easter Day, Tiflis is killed nearly one hundred thousand lambs in memory of the divine lamb. Tables are always served in each house, and any visitor who enters is received as a guest...

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