
Charles Theivon, “Etre anarchist / To Be an Anarchist” (1924)
Charles Thievon, “Etre anarchiste,” Le Libertaire 3e série, 30 no. 256 (30 Août 1924): 2. [Working translation by Shawn P. Wilbur]
Charles Thievon, “Etre anarchiste,” Le Libertaire 3e série, 30 no. 256 (30 Août 1924): 2. [Working translation by Shawn P. Wilbur]
To be an anarchist, it is not enough to scream at all the echoes that you are an anarchist, to go up to the rostrum, to utter a bunch of stupidities, to read the Libertaire more or less frequently. […]
A painful misadventure had just befallen me, to which I owe the addition of some new wrinkles. It was not the first time in my life that I have, as the saying goes, “left some flesh among the brambles.” But this time, I felt that I risked leaving more than my fleece or my blood: I risked leaving my love for the joy of living. And that is serious. It is the worst that can happen to us, to you or to me, to no longer feel love for the joy of living. It matters little if we lose our reputation or our money, or the esteem of those around us, or, in the worst case, our liberty (and that is still a terrible thing.) But there is no loss that can compare to those of the love of the joy of living. […]
Comment vivre ? Ce terrible problème de là vie, beaucoup se le sont posé. La mauvaise organisation sociale, la déplorable répartition des produits, l’accaparement de toutes les richesses, naturelles et autres, rejettent certains hommes en […]
Points de repère Sympathie et Compassion Témoigner de la sympathie, de la compassion, non pas à tout le monde, sans discernement, vaguement, mais à des êtres qui nous intéressent ou auxquels nous nous sentons liés […]
Georgette Ryner was the daughter of Han Ryner, a teacher and a regular contributed to E. Armand’s paper l’en dehors. The prose poem translated here is presented in two slightly different versions. The first appeared […]
Estompe Je soulevai légèrement et délicatement le rideau de l’unique fenêtre de cette chambre où nous nous étions rencontrés, où nous nous étions aimés une heure, peut-être un peu plus, peut-être un peu moins — […]
My dear Armand, your book is a book of ideas, which is why those who wish to reign by the sword or by the power of their fists do not value it. I, preserving the ideal of my younger years, I like its dawn-air, which breaks as if to illuminate the helpless vessels that the surf carries off … And, fleeing the ebb of human stupidity, endlessly multiplied, how many sailors lost on the granite rocks, how many tormented minds and hearts full of sorrow, will one day to “put in at the port,” if by you aid their “compass” once again finds the north! […]
Albert Soubervielle, “Espoir,” L’idée anarchist No. 5 (May 8, 1924): 2. Working translation by Shawn P. Wilbur
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