He had begged, been to jail, committed approximately twelve imprisonable offences with impunity, and survived war, revolution, illness, a gunshot wound, his own family and the Cape of Good Hope. He had been on intimate terms with some of the most remarkable writers and political thinkers of the age.
The Arthur Rimbaud who eventually washed up on the shores of East Africa was not a helpless innocent.
em Rimbaud, London: Picador, 2001, p. 293.
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