The Prologue
The prologue to the first book (which was originally the second) reveals at once the essential nature of the whole work. Addressing "you noble and famous drinkers, and you thrice-pox-ridden, shameless sellers of learning" (for to them alone, and to no one else, he dedicates his writings), Rabelais says that if you had seen Socrates's outward appearance and tried to judge his worth by it, you would not have valued him at an onion skin. To his chosen disciples, and to "the company of merry, pampered madmen," who after reading the pleasant matter of some products of his brain are ready to say that these works contain nothing but jest, mockery, lewd talk and fanciful lies, he answers that in reading this treatise they will meet very deep and abstract principles, and also matter concerning our religion and many social questions and problems of economic life. Perhaps some rotten-headed show-off has slandered his book, not worth a grain. So, he says, "now, my boys, frisk about, make your hearts glad, read my book with all joy ... and toss off a draught of pure wine!"
Sir Thomas Urquhart (the book's text garbles the name) translated Rabelais into English. Although he sometimes intensifies the tone of the original, in these lines he stays entirely faithful to it, especially in the use of short, pregnant phrases that no longer appear in literary speech. In the passage quoted, Rabelais's spirit and creed come through: sharp criticism under a cloak of satire, which saves the author's neck from the hangman's rope, sometimes stained with crude and unsterilized words. At any rate, accepting every risk and slip, we go on through this land of wonders, giving thanks that printed words do not smell of infection, and hoping to find a few pearls in that dunghill.
The Giant's Birth
Gargantua opens with a matchless genealogy in the manner of the Bible. The giant's father was Grangousier, king of Utopia, and his mother Gargamelle. Gargamelle carried the child eleven months in her womb; and when her labor pains began, their friends gathered to drink a cup in turn, believing that nature abhors a vacuum. The proud father, quite untouched by pain, encourages his wife: "Be brave as a sheep and bring this boy into the world, so that we may hurry as fast as possible ... and make another." For a moment the wife wishes her husband might share Abelard's fate. The husband offers to grant her wish on the spot, but Gargamelle changes her mind. Gargantua, emerging from his mother's womb, found the exit blocked by something ill-placed, so he "entered the hollow vein" of his mother, climbed upward through the diaphragm, reached her neck and "came into the world by her left ear." At birth Gargantua bellowed so loudly it was heard two provinces away: "Drink! Drink! Drink!" Seventeen thousand nine hundred and thirteen measures of milk were prepared for his feeding, but from the first moment Gargantua showed his taste for wine.
Education: Scholastic and Humanist
When it was time to train the young giant to take his father's throne, a teacher called Master Jobelin was appointed to teach him, filling his memory with dead facts and confusing him with the arguments of scholastic philosophy, which turned him into a fool. In extreme despair the father resolved to entrust his son to a humanist named Ponocrates. Master and pupil went to Paris to enjoy the latest methods of education. Gargantua rode an enormous mare whose whip-like tail, as she moved, mowed down the trees of vast forests, so that part of France turned into a plain. On reaching Paris, Gargantua dismounted on one of the towers of Notre-Dame, took a strong fancy to the bells of the tower, and carried them off to hang on his mare's neck. Ponocrates began re-educating the ill-bred giant by giving him a heavy purge, so that his bowels and brain, which were closely allied, should be cleansed. After this purification Gargantua got to work and with great zeal set about cultivating body, soul and character. He studied the Bible, the classics and the arts; learned to play the lute and to enjoy music; practiced running, jumping, wrestling, mountain-climbing, swimming, riding, tilting on horseback and the other arts of war; went hunting to increase his courage; and shouted to strengthen his lungs so loudly that all Paris heard him. Gargantua visited the workshops of metalworkers, stonecutters, goldsmiths, alchemists, weavers, clockmakers, printers and dyers, and studied the trade of each. Every day he took part in some practical and useful task and sometimes attended scientific lectures, trials, or "the sermons of evangelical preachers."
The War with Picrochole
In the midst of all this training Gargantua is suddenly summoned to his father's realm, because another king, named Picrochole, had declared war on Grangousier. Here Rabelais, borrowing a story from Plutarch's life of Pyrrhus, tells how Picrochole's captains boast that under their leader's banner they will conquer France, Spain, Portugal, Algiers, Italy, Sicily, Crete, Cyprus, Rhodes, Greece, Jerusalem and more. Picrochole is delighted and puffed up by these words, but an old sage asks him: "What will be the end of all this labor and wandering?" Picrochole answers: "On our return we shall settle down, live at ease, and be merry." The sage notes: "And if by chance you do not return from this long and risky journey, would it not be better to take our rest now?" Picrochole cries: "Enough! Go forward, for I fear nothing ... let whoever loves me follow me" (Book 1, ch. 33). Gargantua's mare almost single-handedly carries on the war, since with every simple motion she drowns thousands of Picrochole's soldiers.
Friar John
The true hero of that war was Friar John. He was a monk who liked fighting better than praying and allowed his wise curiosity to hurl itself down the most dangerous paths of thought. All the king's servants love him and give him so much food and wine that his bowels declare themselves content; they invite him to take off his monk's habit so he can eat more, but he fears that by removing it he may lose the heat of his fire. Every fault that the Protestant reformers laid on Christian monks is mocked in the person of this merry member of the clergy: laziness, gluttony, drunkenness, mumbling of prayers, and hostility to every kind of knowledge outside their own narrow range of study and thought. Friar John says: "In our abbey, for fear of catching the mumps, nobody studies" (Book 1, ch. 39).
The Abbey of Theleme
When Gargantua wishes to reward Friar John's bravery in the war by making him head of one of the existing abbeys, John asks instead for the means to found a new abbey himself, with "rules contrary to all other abbeys." First, it should have no encircling walls, and its inhabitants should be free to leave as they wish. Second, it should not be closed to women, but open to women who are "fair of hair, comely and sweet in manner," young and of good birth. Third, only well-born, well-mannered, handsome young men should be admitted; and dullards, bigots, beggars, lawyers, judges, clerks, usurers, hoarders and "hypocritical mourners" should not apply. Fourth, none of the inhabitants should take vows of chastity, poverty or obedience; the members should have the right to marry, enjoy their wealth, and be free in everything. The abbey should be called Theleme, "what you will," and its only rule should be "Do what you will." For "men who are free, well-born, well-bred and used to the company of honorable people have by nature an instinct and goad that drives them to virtuous deeds and holds them back from vice; and this instinct is called honor" (Book 1, ch. 47).
Gargantua provided the money for creating this aristocratic anarchy, and the building rose according to specifications that Rabelais described in such detail that architects have drawn plans from them. It contained a library, a theater, a swimming pool, a tennis court, a football field, a chapel, flower gardens, a hunting park, orchards, stables and 9,332 rooms. In truth it was an American-style hotel set up on vast empty land. Rabelais forgot to add a kitchen, and he did not explain who was to do the cleaning and upkeep of that earthly paradise.