When poets shout ‘Shit!’ at their contemporaries
‘It is here, said Verlaine, that the tiger has its lair’(1), recounts Delhaye in his Souvenirs familiers. A shabby room in Paris, a site of debauchery, and a purgatory of frustrations, where at the end of the year 1871 several French bohemian artists found themselves, and who shared – in this ‘lair’ only’ – a more or less assumed disgust for the powers in position and for the Parnassian poets.
Ernest, "Souvenirs familiers à propos de Rimbaud (suite et fin)",
Revue d'Ardenne et d'Argonne, 1908, p.121-124.