To the happy few

Não sei o que diria o “contentious UN Irony Council“, mas é engraçado ver um professor de filosofia ser ameaçado de morte por extremistas muçulmanos depois de acusar o Islão de ser violento.

– Signe Wilkinson, The Philadelphia Daily News

Depois de Theo Van Gogh e Ayaan Hirsi Ali, das polémicas sobre os cartoons dinamarqueses e as declarações do papa, é impressionante ver como no caso da representação do Idomeneo, de Mozart, há quem, no Ocidente, ache natural a auto-censura para evitar represálias. Não concordo com os que acusam a direcção do teatro de cobardia – é fácil ser corajoso por intermédio de outros, como dizia a piada sobre os sírios, que estariam dispostos a combater Israel até ao último libanês; cada um tem o direito de lutar, ou não, pelas causas que bem entender – mas não deixa de ser um retrocesso civilizacional importante. É verdade que existem situações de hipocrisia (e.g. leis que impedem a discussão do Holocausto, em certos países europeus), mas seria melhor corrigi-las do que introduzir mais limitações à liberdade de expressão, necessariamente arbitrárias.

He who would be serene and pure needs but one thing, detachment.

— Meister Eckhart

I have the feeling that Charterhouse of Parma reminds me of another book, and it may well be Axel Munthe’s The Story of San Michele. I get the feeling that the authors of both stories are nice, peaceful persons. I couldn’t quite figure out why I had that impression, until I read this phrase:

Politics in a literary work are a pistol-shot in the middle of a concert, a crude affair though one impossible to ignore.

— Stendhal, Charterhouse of Parma

Is it possible that the strife associated with politics tarnishes the beauty of art? I find that idea disheartening, because my favorite authors are deeply political. Even when they are not, I often realize (not without some surprise) that the political considerations in the story attract me more than anything else. Persuasive speeches, as brilliant rhetoric in general, can be deeply inspiring. The Gettysburg address, Churchill’s speeches during the second World War; fortresses of logic, oceans of feelings, exaltation of ideals, probing the most profound characteristics of human valor. The “unbearable lightness of being” may be beautiful, but will it ever knock down Bastilles?

This book has moments that remind me of “The Magic Mountain”. The plot, the characters, the writing; everything is brought together with such skill as to make it a true work of art.

À chaque pression, un jet de sang s’élançait du cou du condamné.

Pour cette fois, Franz n’y put tenir plus longtemps; il se rejeta en arrière, et alla tomber sur un fauteuil à moitié évanoui.

Albert, les yeux fermés, resta debout, mais cramponné aux rideaux de la fenêtre.

Le comte étais debout et triomphant comme le mauvais ange.

— Alexandre Dumas, Le Comte de Monte Cristo

“Ce que je reproche aux journaux, c’est de nous faire faire attention tous les jours à des choses insignifiantes, tandis que nous lisons trois ou quatre fois dans notre vie les livres où il y a des choses essentielles. Du moment que nous déchirons fiévreusement chaque matin la bande du journal, alors on devrait changer les choses et mettre dans le journal, moi je ne sais pas, les… Pensées de Pascal ! (Il détacha ce mot d’un ton d’emphase ironique pour ne pas avoir l’air pédant). Et c’est dans le volume doré sur tranches que nous n’ouvrons qu’une fois tous les dix ans, ajouta-t-il en témoignant pour les choses mondaines ce dédain qu’affectent certains hommes du monde, que nous lirions que la reine de Grèce est allée à Cannes ou que la princesse de Léon a donné un bal costumé. Comme cela la juste proportion serait rétablie.

— Marcel Proust, in À la recherche du temps perdu – Du côté de chez Swann

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were. Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee…

— John Donne

No matter how interesting other issues may be, it seems that the most useful subject that one may write about, is himself.

Given how interesting other issues may be, it seems that the most futile subject one may write about, is himself.

As Saint-Exupéry so beautifully put it, you can build an entirely different temple with the same rocks.

It always amazed me how people can be so indifferent to insults, but then be very angry if the offense includes family members. Maybe that would change if there was a gradient of such aggravating remarks. ‘Son of a bitch’ is admittedly strong, but perhaps ‘uncle of a rat’ would be acceptable in some situations, and ‘second cousin of a goat’s half brother’ would be virtually harmless.

“I find that it is not to be.”

“What, Adrian, is not to be?”

“The good and noble; what we call the human, although it is good and noble. What human beings have fought for and stormed citadels, what the ecstatic exultantly announced – that is not to be. It will be taken back. I will take it back.”

“I’m not sure I understand. What will you take back?”

“The Ninth Symphony.”

— Thomans Mann, in Doctor Faustus

I like the idea behind Twenty Years After, sequel to The Three Musketeers, as it follows the evolution of the characters. Twenty years later, life has happened and friends have become distant; nevertheless, the bonds are not severed, and the old brotherhood is easily rebuilt. There is something incredibly touching in true comradery.

‘Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead,’ he suggested. ‘After that my own rule is to let everything alone.’

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, in The Great Gatsby