Of course! Here is a **slightly condensed** version — the core message and Voltaire's style are preserved, but some redundant details or very long sentences are tightened for better flow:
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**Candide’s Letter to Pangloss**
*El Dorado, December 30, 1759*
My very dear master Pangloss,
I hope this letter finds you in better health than in Lisbon, where the auto-da-fé threatened our bodies… and our illusions. After storms, wars, and perilous crossings, I have reached America — this continent praised for its riches, but wounded by greed.
There I discovered Eldorado: streets paved with gold, fountains of syrup, inhabitants unaware of war, the Inquisition, and slavery. Your lessons on the “best of all possible worlds” finally seemed justified. But upon leaving this refuge to find Cunegonde, I understood: this Eden is only an exception in a world of suffering.
Elsewhere, I saw horror. In the colonies, Indians are massacred and Africans chained in the name of “civilization.” Near Surinam, a slave told me: “They cut off one hand and one leg for fleeing. That’s the price of sugar that sweetens your teas in Paris.” How can your system justify this?
I saw Jesuits kill in the name of God, governors plunder the gold of the Andes to buy titles in Europe. The gold I brought back from Eldorado has only corrupted. Wealth does not attract virtue but madness.
Your philosophy, so elegant, wavers before such cruelty. Can one believe that all is well when children die of hunger near mountains of gold? Eldorado taught me this: happiness is born where man renounces greed, cultivates the land without exploiting it, and prefers wisdom to gold.
I do not reject your ideas out of bitterness, but from experience. The world is neither good nor bad: it is what men make of it. So I have chosen, with Cunegonde and Martin, to “cultivate our garden” — not that of kings, but a small plot where honest work soothes the soul.
Perhaps one day you will come sow vegetables there… and not systems.
I embrace you with respect and sadness. The truth, even bitter, is better than a sweet illusion.
Yours affectionately, *Candide*
P.S.: If you persist in believing that all is well, taste this sugarcane. Its bitterness will convince you better than my words.
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Would you now like **to analyze together the main ideas of this letter** (irony, critique of colonialism, end of Leibnizian dogma, etc.? I can suggest a small activity to deepen your understanding!
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Of course! Here is a **slightly condensed** version — the core message and Voltaire's style are preserved, but some redundant details or very long sentences are tightened for better flow:
---
**Candide’s Letter to Pangloss**
*El Dorado, December 30, 1759*
My very dear master Pangloss,
I hope this letter finds you in better health than in Lisbon, where the auto-da-fé threatened our bodies… and our illusions. After storms, wars, and perilous crossings, I have reached America — this continent praised for its riches, but wounded by greed.
There I discovered Eldorado: streets paved with gold, fountains of syrup, inhabitants unaware of war, the Inquisition, and slavery. Your lessons on the “best of all possible worlds” finally seemed justified. But upon leaving this refuge to find Cunegonde, I understood: this Eden is only an exception in a world of suffering.
Elsewhere, I saw horror. In the colonies, Indians are massacred and Africans chained in the name of “civilization.” Near Surinam, a slave told me: “They cut off one hand and one leg for fleeing. That’s the price of sugar that sweetens your teas in Paris.” How can your system justify this?
I saw Jesuits kill in the name of God, governors plunder the gold of the Andes to buy titles in Europe. The gold I brought back from Eldorado has only corrupted. Wealth does not attract virtue but madness.
Your philosophy, so elegant, wavers before such cruelty. Can one believe that all is well when children die of hunger near mountains of gold? Eldorado taught me this: happiness is born where man renounces greed, cultivates the land without exploiting it, and prefers wisdom to gold.
I do not reject your ideas out of bitterness, but from experience. The world is neither good nor bad: it is what men make of it. So I have chosen, with Cunegonde and Martin, to “cultivate our garden” — not that of kings, but a small plot where honest work soothes the soul.
Perhaps one day you will come sow vegetables there… and not systems.
I embrace you with respect and sadness. The truth, even bitter, is better than a sweet illusion.
Yours affectionately,
*Candide*
P.S.: If you persist in believing that all is well, taste this sugarcane. Its bitterness will convince you better than my words.
---
Would you now like **to analyze together the main ideas of this letter** (irony, critique of colonialism, end of Leibnizian dogma, etc.? I can suggest a small activity to deepen your understanding!