"We've no use for intellectuals in this outfit. What we need is chimpanzees. Let me give you a word of advice: never say a word to us about being intelligent. We will think for you, my friend. Don't forget it"
About this Quote
A sneer disguised as practical advice: Celine stages anti-intellectualism as workplace common sense, the kind of talk that turns humiliation into policy. The line’s brutality isn’t just in the insult (“chimpanzees”) but in the managerial promise tucked inside it: “We will think for you.” That’s the fantasy of every authoritarian system in miniature - relief from the burden of judgment, paid for with dignity.
Celine’s intent is double-edged. On the surface, it’s an obscene caricature of an “outfit” that wants obedient bodies instead of minds. Underneath, it’s also a diagnosis of how institutions metabolize intelligence: not by debating it, but by neutralizing it. The warning “never say a word to us about being intelligent” exposes the real taboo. Competence isn’t threatening; self-awareness is. To name your intelligence is to claim agency, to imply you might dissent, resist, or simply notice the scam.
The subtext is classed and mechanized: workers reduced to function, thinking centralized like payroll. “My friend” lands as poisoned camaraderie - the fake intimacy power uses to make domination feel like belonging. Celine, a writer steeped in corrosive cynicism and rhythmic street speech, makes the ugliness persuasive by making it sound casual, even jocular. That’s why it works: the cruelty doesn’t arrive as a manifesto; it arrives as shop-floor banter.
Context matters. Writing out of a 20th-century Europe enthralled by mass politics, bureaucracy, and propaganda, Celine channels a world where the collective voice drowns the individual mind. It’s not only anti-intellectual; it’s anti-personhood, delivered with the punchline timing of someone who knows how easily people laugh their way into submission.
Celine’s intent is double-edged. On the surface, it’s an obscene caricature of an “outfit” that wants obedient bodies instead of minds. Underneath, it’s also a diagnosis of how institutions metabolize intelligence: not by debating it, but by neutralizing it. The warning “never say a word to us about being intelligent” exposes the real taboo. Competence isn’t threatening; self-awareness is. To name your intelligence is to claim agency, to imply you might dissent, resist, or simply notice the scam.
The subtext is classed and mechanized: workers reduced to function, thinking centralized like payroll. “My friend” lands as poisoned camaraderie - the fake intimacy power uses to make domination feel like belonging. Celine, a writer steeped in corrosive cynicism and rhythmic street speech, makes the ugliness persuasive by making it sound casual, even jocular. That’s why it works: the cruelty doesn’t arrive as a manifesto; it arrives as shop-floor banter.
Context matters. Writing out of a 20th-century Europe enthralled by mass politics, bureaucracy, and propaganda, Celine channels a world where the collective voice drowns the individual mind. It’s not only anti-intellectual; it’s anti-personhood, delivered with the punchline timing of someone who knows how easily people laugh their way into submission.
Quote Details
| Topic | Sarcastic |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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