Intimations Read Online Free

harsh admonitions of the wilderness, only a similar harshness will stir him to civilized action.
    I look to the braggart philosopher Portesquieu to measure his response, but he does not meet my eye. Victor continues to sway a bit too much for my liking, giving the elegant chacotte an unseemly teetering quality. However, it must be said that his posture is impeccable.
    2
    Young Victor Tallon wandered into our village three years and thirty-seven days ago, wearing upon his head a flap of filthy linen made more vile by the matted teats of hair hung beneath it. The physician who examined him estimated his age at sixteen years, though with his stunted height and well-developed teeth he could have been a man closer to my own. When we realized that he was more than a beggar—far more, by way of being far less—we descended upon himas children upon a sack of sweets. Not only was he unable to give us an account of himself, his name, origin, occupation, the name of his father, the occupation of his father, the whereabouts of his mother, etcetera, he was unable to account for anything at all. To our questions and threats, he made a soft chuffing sound, followed by a sort of attempt to bite the air, snapping at it and gnashing his teeth as though he had seized upon some delicacy. Men and women of all ages and ranks, we convened upon the town square to see this empty vessel, to gather around him, to lift up his lips to examine his gums, to explore his sensitivity to prodding and loud sounds.
    That night in the tavern, the philosopher Portesquieu addressed me before all present. Dancing-master, he said from a mouth stained with meat, why do you not try your hand at reforming the wild young man? You claim that you are a favorite of the court, surely some official would commend him to your custody, to teach him the essentials of modern thought and comportment. Perhaps knowing the proper execution of the gavotte would help the boy make sense of the world.
    Amid his laughter, I reflected upon the many spiritual benefits that a mastery of the dance could offer. A firm knowledge of the social dances—invented for pleasure yet placed in the service of the public good—could benefit the poor savage in both mind and body. For if the elegant gestures of the dance spring from a deeply cultivated sense of intelligence and propriety, it is clear that knowledge of these gestures would cultivate the appropriate intelligence in its practitioner.
    It is to this end that I took young Victor on as my own student, and to this end that he performs the steps as I have taught him, in the order I have taught him, before this audience: the audience that will affirm his civilization. It is for this reason that he rotates with his left arm extended and his right gently curved—performing the court dances like a gracious and sensible man. Although he does not yet understand what any of those words mean.
    3
    Victor executes a magnificent bow in the center of the hall. He bends before a bramble of eyes, convened to witness the degree to which bodily form may supplant a long history of mental formlessness. He is a portrait of health and good grooming: his eyes and gums no longer ooze. Atop his head, he wears a wig of coppery curls that suits him as though it were his own from birth, and upon which the sides have been pinned back in the style of the moment, and to prevent him from chewing at it. The fitted coat and collar make the most of his shape, so much so that the least choosy of the court ladies titter to each other as he passes by. As he takes his first step into the second prepared dance, a minuet choreographed to the playing of flute, tambourine, and harpsichord, I am pleased to note that every possible sign of good breeding has been stamped onto his surface, wrought in his flesh. Not a thing is out of place as he glides forward into the first movement, but for the composition of the face.
    Set back within a recess of the coppery wig, two eyes