Le Prométhée mal enchaîné

Le Prométhée mal enchaîné by André Gide is a satirical novella written in the late 19th century. It slyly transposes Prometheus into modern Paris to mock private morality, free will, debt, and public spectacle, following Prométhée, a loquacious waiter, the tormented Damoclès, the self-satisfied Coclès, and Zeus recast as a capricious banker. Through farce and allegory, it probes how conscience, chance, and social theater entangle and consume people. The opening of the novella stages an absurd scene on a Paris boulevard: Zeus, a powerful banker, conducts a “gratuitous” experiment by gifting 500 francs to one man (Damoclès) while slapping another (Coclès), as a sharp-tongued waiter explains personality, “free acts,” and his matchmaking “tables of three.” Prométhée wanders in from the Caucasus, summons his shabby “eagle” to peck his liver before a café crowd, and is briefly jailed, where he tenderly fattens the bird. Over meals, Damoclès confesses that the unearned money tyrannizes him, Coclès claims moral credit for his suffering, and the eagle crystallizes as a symbol of conscience, debt, or desire that devours its keeper. After his release, Prométhée delivers a flamboyant lecture—“one must have an eagle, and everyone has one”—peppered with fireworks and tricks; the audience wavers, and soon Damoclès falls gravely ill under the weight of his unresolved obligation while Zeus refuses to reveal himself. By the end of this opening stretch, Damoclès dies; at the sparse funeral Prométhée preaches “let the dead bury the dead,” tells a mocking parable (Tityre, Angèle, and the flutist Mœlibée), announces he has killed his eagle, and then hosts a buoyant funeral feast at which they literally eat it.

Summary written by Project Gutenberg, by machine.