Stefan
I intend to write an essay about three of the books written in 1888 by Nietzsche: the most explosive, the “crazy” ones. What I have found out, re-reading them, is that Nietzsche wasn't crazy at all when he conceived “The Twilight of Idols” for instance (as some psychiatrists claim). His truths are more powerful, deeper and more energetic. There is an incredible tension but also a massive - almost unbelieveable - intuition. In his hidden, occult way (pre-psychanalytic), Nietzsche is almost always right. His truth may be “perverse” but it is nevertheless a strong truth. I'd rather be insane with Nietzsche than “normal” with Kant. However, because Nietzsche has written this books weeks before his mental breakdown, they are somehow mythologically charged. Before experiencing his abyss, the German writer had perhaps the most formidable intelectual adventure of all times: if Zarathustra is Everest, Genealogy of the Morals and the writtings from the fateful 1888 are a trip to Moon and Mars. The aforementioned virtual essay of mine will probably emulate Papini's tone from the “Twilight of Philosophers”.
Svevo e un psiholog complex & modern. Ma asteptam totusi mai mult de la capodopera lui.
Redau un pasaj schopenhauerian & cioranian:
“Legea firii nu dă drept la fericire, ci, dimpotrivă prescrie mizerie şi durere. Când apare hrana, paraziţii aleargă din toate părţile, şi dacă nu există, se grăbesc să se nască. Puţin mai târziu, prada abia mai ajungea, iar imediat după nu mai ajungea deloc fiindcă natura nu face calcule, ci experienţe. Când hrana nu mai ajungea, numărul consumatorilor trebuia să scadă prin moarte, pe care-o precede durerea şi astfel echilibrul se restabileşte din nou, pentru o clipă. De ce ne-am plânge? Şi cu toate astea ne plângem cu toţii. Cei care n-au căpătat nimic din pradă mor strigând împotriva nedreptăţii, iar cei care şi-au avut partea lor găsesc c-ar fi avut dreptul la una mai mare. De ce nu mor şi nu trăiesc în tăcere? E plăcută, în schimb, bucuria celui care-a ştiut să pună mâna pe o parte îmbelşugată din pradă, e plăcută şi se manifestă în văzul tuturor, în mijlocul uralelor. Unicul strigăt ce poate fi admis e strigătul învingătorului.” (367)
Finalul reda arhicunoscuta - pentru noi, dar in epoca lui Svevo inca frageda - implozie a instinctului mortii:"Poate că datorită unei catastrofe nemaipomenite, provocată de unelte, ne vom regăsi sănătatea. Când gazele otrăvitoare nu vor mai fi de ajuns, un om zămislit ca toţi ceilalţi, în taina unei încăperi din lumea noastră, va inventa un exploziv formidabil, în comparaţie cu care explozivele existente astăzi vor fi socotite nişte jucării nevătămătoare. Iar un alt om, zămislit şi el ca toţi ceilalţi, dar poate puţin mai bolnav decât ceilalţi, va fura explozibilul acesta şi va coborî până-n inima pământului, ca să-l pună acolo unde efectul va putea atinge suprema intensitate. Va urma o explozie uriaşă, pe care n-o va auzi nimeni, iar pământul, reîntors în starea lui de nebuloasă, va rătăci prin ceruri, fără paraziţi şi fără boli." (434)
“Why are you drinking?” demanded the little prince.
“So that I may forget,” replied the tippler.
“Forget what?” inquired the little prince, who already was sorry for him.
“Forget that I am ashamed,” the tippler confessed, hanging his head.
“Ashamed of what?” insisted the little prince, who wanted to help him.
“Ashamed of drinking!”
—
Awesome!!!
1st read: 1997
2nd read: 2015. Breathtaking!
It's even better than “The Stranger”. The ultimate nihilist novel of the mid-century!
One of the few Romanian poetical experiments (the other ones exclusively belonging to Dada and Surrealism) that has universal value. They should be translated completely (don't know if they have been) into English by a scholar deeply involved in Shakespeare, alchemy and 20th century mysticism.
Some parts incomprehensible, others outrageous (Kant is the priest of reason, basically despising feelings and emotions), some juicy (his rationalism does not exclude psychological insight and there are moments when his judgements are pre-psychoanalytical), others – rigid and harsh.
I don't understand why many rationalists (re-reading Aristotle gave me the same impression) are inherently anti-hedonistic. Why do they seem to feel that a philosophy of pleasure is a sort of betrayal of human nature, that it is somewhat base? Is that resentment, masochism or something else?
Furthermore, from a mathematical-philosophical perspective, Kant is a supercomputer. From a stylistic-philological one, he is careless and makes you suffer.
After finishing the book, I thought: thank God we have Nietzsche!
I wasn't impressed by Emily Dickinson – actually I've read her because Cioran is one of her biggest fans. What I have disliked: a touch of passive nihilism, of Schopenhauerian renunciation. I am not an active spirit myself, but compared to her I am prince Arjuna from Bhagavad Gita (after the conversation with Krishna). Therefore, I would have wished that the intensity of her poems had sparked up her biography as well. But at the same time I realize that the combination between her fire from within and complete impersonality and public facelessness (“How dreary to be somebody!/ How public, like a frog ...”) turns her in such a splendid case.
What I have enjoyed – the fact that she is such a direct (lyrical) philosopher. She has wonderful poems about anxiety and despair and I am sure (and I am glad) she hasn't read Kierkegaard! She is a true philospher (or better said, a wise woman) and her eyes are so fresh because she doesn't cary the coffin of the history of philosophy (like professional philosophers) after her. She has complete access to immediacy, to directness, to the (essence of the) Real that transgresses ordinary reality. Moreover, she has an aphoristic genius which completes this surreal wisdom.
“Power is only pain,
Stranded, through discipline”
“THE soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend,—
Or the most agonizing spy
An enemy could send.”
“Anger as soon as fed is dead;
'T is starving makes it fat”
“REMORSE is memory awake”
“THE brain is wider than the sky,
For, put them side by side,
The one the other will include
With ease, and you beside.”
“SOME keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.”
“PROUD of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee”
“LOVE is anterior to life,
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of breath.”
“A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.”
“ONE need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.”
“THE difference between despair
And fear, is like the one
Between the instant of a wreck,
And when the wreck has been.”
“A thunder storm combines the charms
Of Winter and of Hell.”
