Nikos Karouzos: The agony in front of nothingness – Νικος Καρουζος: Η αγωνια κατάντικρυ στο μηδεν

Ο ποιητης Νικος Καρουζος ταξιδεψε στον αλλο κοσμο την 28η Σεπτεμβριου 1990.

The Greek poet Nikos Karouzos died twenty two years ago this day.

Σχεδον δυο χρονια πριν, στα τελειωματα του 2010 ειχα γραψει ενα αρθρο για τον μεγαλο Ελληνα ποιητη.

Almost two years ago, at the end of 2010, I wrote an article about the great Greek poet.

The Greek poet Nikos Karouzos

Σημερα, τιμωντας την μνημη του για μια ακομη φορα, παραθετω ενα εκτενες αποσπασμα απο ενα κειμενο του που ξεκινησε να καμει κριτικη στον Καζαντζακη, αλλα επικεντρωθηκε στην “αγωνια κατάντικρυ στο μηδεν” (Νικος Καρουζος, Πεζα Κειμενα, Ικαρος Εκδοτικη Εταιρεια, 1998).

Today in his memory I publish an extract from an article he wrote criticizing Nikos Kazantzakis. The article is focused on the “agony in front of nothingness”. It goes like this:

“…. Ας παρουμε λοιπον, αν οχι τιποτ’ αλλο, το Ταο τε κινγκ,   το περιφημο βιβλιο του Λαο-τσε, την πιο αμυθοποιητη μεταφυσικη διδασκαλια της Αρχαιας Ασιας. Την αγωνια που μας βαζει συστηθους απεναντι στο μηδεν – απ’ τη χαμηλοτερη βαθμιδα της ως την υψηλοτερη, εκεινη που φανερωνει μ’ αλλα λογια την αγωνια ως υψωτικη μεριμνα – την κανει να υπαρχει, κατα τη διδασκαλια τουτη, το κτητικο-προσκολλητικο στοιχειο της υπαρξεως: η ατομικοτητα.

“… Let us then take, if nothing else, Tao te Ching, Lao Tse’s masterpiece, the most metaphysical teaching of Anceint Asia that is not prone to Myth. According to Lao Tse, the agony we experience in front of nothingness – from its lowest degree to the highest, where it is experienced as redemption anxiety – emerges out of the posessive – attachment attribute of our existence: individuality.

Martin Heidegger’s Feldweg in Messkirch, Germany

Εκεινος που δινεται στην μελετη 

γινεται πιοτερος μερα με τη μερα. 

Εκεινος που αφιερωνεται στο Ταο

ελαττωνεται μερα με τη μερα. 

He who devotes himself to learning

(seeks) from day to day to increase (his knowledge);

he who devotes himself to the Tao

(seeks) from day to day to diminish (his doing).

Lao Tse

Ελατωσου κι ακομη ελαττωσου

για να φτασεις καποτε στην απραξια. 

Με την απραξια

τιποτα δεν υπαρχει που να μη γινεται.

(Ταο τε κινγκ, 48)

He diminishes it and again diminishes it,

till he arrives at doing nothing (on purpose).

Having arrived at this point of non-action,

there is nothing which he does not do. ((chap. 48)

C D Friedrich: Der Wanderer

Θυμιζουμε την οντολογικη θεμελιωση της ταοϊκης διδασκαλιας:

Let us be reminded of the ontological foundation of taoism:

Ο γυρισμος ειν’ η κινηση του Ταο.

Τουτο φανερωνεται στο να’ ναι κανεις εξω απ’ τη δυναμη. 

Ολα τα οντα πηγαζουν απ’το Ειναι

το Ειναι πηγαζει απ’ το Μη-Ειναι

(Ταο τε κινγκ, 40)

In Tao the only motion is returning;

The only useful quality, weakness.

For though all creatures under heaven are the products of Being,

Being itself is the product of Not-being. ” (chap. 40, tr. Waley)

The Greek poet Nikos Karouzos

Το Ταο ειν’ ο δρομος προς το αδειασμα της ατομικοτητας, πηγης της κτητικοτητας και του εξουσιαζειν.

Tao is the way to get rid of individuality, which is the source of posessiveness and power.

Το Ταο ειν’ ο δρομος προς την απραξια, που σημαινει βασικα την μη προσκολληση στ’ αποτελεσματα του πραττειν, ειτε αυτα ειν’ αγαθα ειτε αυτα ειν’ ασχημα.

Tao is the road to doing nothing, which means non attachment to the results of acting, good or bad.  

Το Ταο ειν’ η κινηση προς την καθαρα πνευματικη χρηση του Ειναι, προς το μη-εγω που ειναι τα αταραχτο εγω της μη-ατομικοτητας, του μη-κτητικου-προσκολλητικου στοιχειου της υπαρξεως, προς την εξουδετερωση της αγωνιας, προς την μεταμορφωση σε πνευμα της υλης: την αταραξια.

Tao is the movement to the actualization of Being, to the non-Being, which is the undisturbed nucleus of non-individuality, of the non-posessive, non-aatached element of existence, to the neutralization of anxiety, to stillness.

Φτασε στην κενοτητα την υψιστη

και σ’ αταραξια διατηρησου…(16)

The (state of) vacancy should be brought to the utmost degree, and that of stillness guarded with unwearying vigour. (16)

Γιατι το ειναι και το μηδεν γεννιουνται το εν’ απ’ τ’ αλλο.(2)

So it is that existence and non-existence give birth the one to (the idea of) the other (2)

Σ’ αυτο το σημειο το ειναι και το μηδεν ειν’ ακριβως ο,τι ο Ηρακλειτος ονομαζει “ζων” και “τεθνηκος” που ειναι “ταυτο”.

Ειν’ η παντοδεχτρα ζωη κι ο παντοδεχτης θανατος, οπου αγωνια κι ο Καζαντζακης…

It is at this point that being and nothingness is exactly what Heracletus calls “living” and “decesaed” that are “the same”.

It is the all encompassing life and the all encomapssing death, where Kazantzakis’ anxiety originates.

Heracletus

ταὐτὸ ζῶν καὶ τεθνηκὸς καὶ ἐγρηγορὸς καὶ καθεῦδον καὶ νέον καὶ γηραιόν· τάδε γὰρ μεταπεσόντα ἐκεῖνά ἐστι κἀκεῖνα πάλιν μεταπεσόντα ταῦτα.

Ηρακλειτος (αποσπασμα 88)

And it is the same thing in us that is quick and dead, awake and asleep, young and old; the former are shifted and become the latter, and the latter in turn are shifted and become the former.

Heracletus (fragmentum 88)

By the (breaking) sea wave: A “Fluxus Eleatis” Discourse

Mr. FFF: Παρα θιν αλος. By the breaking sea wave.

MM: I see Priest Chryses praying. For his daughter Chryseis has been kidnapped by Agamemnon who does not want to release her.

βή δ’ ακέων παρά θίνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης…

πήρε βουβός του πολυτάραχου γιαλού τον άμμον

Ομηρου Ιλιας, Ραψωδια Α34

Without a word, he went by the shore of the noisy sea (or ‘sounding sea’)

Homer, Iliad, A34

Mr. FFF: The priest Chryses prayed to Apollo to punish the Greek army, so that Agamemnon is forced to return to him his daughter, Chryseis.

Mrs. T: The deep sound of the sea is in stark contrast with the priest’s silent suffering.

Είπε, και την ευκή του επάκουσεν ο Απόλλωνας ο Φοίβος,
κι απ᾿ την κορφή του Ολύμπου εχύθηκε θυμό γεμάτος

Ομηρου Ιλιας, Ραψωδια Α43-44

He spoke, and Apollo Phoebus listened to his wish

and from the top pf Olympus he rushed away full of wrath

Homer, Iliad, A43-44

MM: Apollo shot the plague to the Greek Army, and Agamemnon had to return Chryseis to her father.

Mrs. T: As a compensation for his loss, Agamemnon took Bryseis from Achilles.

Mr. FFF: Achilles is furious at the loss of Briseis.

Briseis returns, sculpture by Michael Talbot

Δακρυσμένος τότε ο Αχιλλέας απ᾿ τους συντρόφους του μακραίνει και καθίζει

μπρος στον ψαρή γιαλό, το απέραντο το πέλαγο θωρώντας,

κι απλώνοντας τα χέρια ευκήθηκε στην ακριβή του μάνα

Ομηρου Ιλιας, Ραψωδια Α348-352

Achilles in tears strays away from his comrades and seats

on the beach, and looking at the vast sea,

unfolded his arms and prayed to his mother

Homer, Iliad, AHomer, Iliad, A348-352

Mr. FFF: Greeks of any age, starting with Homer, have a special relationship with the sea.

Mrs. T: The sea was considered to be the home of many deities.

MM: The sea was also a place of catharsis, a cleansing place for mortals.

Wie Meerekuesten, wenn zu baun

Anfangen die Himmliwschen und herein

Schifft unaufhaltsam, eine Pracht, das Werk

Der Woogen, eins uns andere, und die Erde

Sich ruester aus, darauf vom Freudigsten eines…

Wie Merekuesten…

Friedrich Hoelderlin

As upon seacoasts, when the gods
Begin to build and the work of the waves
Ships in unstoppably wave
After wave, in splendour, and the earth
Attires itself and then comes joy
A supreme, tuneful joy, setting …

(translation by David Constantine)

Wie Merekuesten…

Friedrich Hoelderlin

MM: I see the beach walking and…

Stephen Daedalus: Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick.

MM: Stephen closed his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and shells.

Leopold Bloom: I am wandering around, avoiding to go home. I am on Sandymount strand. Following Stephen’s steps.

(young) Gerty: It is almost dusk. Roman candles are fizzing through the air.

Leopold Bloom: I cannot get my eyes off her!

(young) Gerty: I pulled my skirt up and revealed my garters.

Leopold Bloom: I surrender, I am too weak to resist.

(young) Gerty: I behaved as an exhibitionist. Will I ever be as important as Molly is?

Leopold Bloom:  I behaved as a true voyeur. I am aging.

Mr. FFF: I like garters.

Mrs. T: The description of the episode with Bloom and (young) Gerty made the US Courts to ban the book as indecent.

 

The beach shines like a mirror, swallowing the confusion of forms, creating whatever it likes.

Here by the beach, I will be covered, in whole, by a layer of sugar, like snow.

It is a sin to be absent from the present.

Nikos Gabriel Pentzikis, Mrs. Ersis’ Novel

Ο γιαλος στιλβει σαν καθρεφτης, καταπινοντας τη συγχυση των μορφων, σχηματιζοντας ο,τι θελει αυτος.

Εδω στην ακρογιαλια, ολοκληρον, θα με καλυψει σαν χιονι ενα στρωμα απο ζαχαρη.

Αμαρτια η απουσια απο το παρον.

Νικος Γαβριηλ Πεντζικης, Το Μυθιστορημα της κυριας Ερσης

Πῶς δύναται τὶς νὰ γίνει ἀνὴρ χωρὶς ν᾿ ἀγαπήσει δεκάκις τουλάχιστον, καὶ δεκάκις ν᾿ ἀπατηθεῖ ;

How could anyone become a man without falling in love at least ten times, and betrayed ten times?

Alexandros Papadiamantis

MM: I see the kissing-on-the-beach sequence where Lancaster and Kerr roll around in the Pacific Ocean’s frothy waves, lips locked as the surf washes over them.

Mrs. T: Lancaster’s sergeant (Milton Warden) with Deborah Kerr playing Karen Holms, another officer’s wife

Mr. FFF: The American censors deleted four seconds from that provocative love-making scene.

Mrs. T: From Here to Eternity was nominated for 13 Oscars and won eight, including best film and best director. It won rave reviews and became one of the highest-grossing films of the Fifties.

Du musst das Leben nicht verstehen,

dann wird es werden wie ein Fest.

You should not understand Life,

then it will be like a celebration.

Rainer Maria Rilke

MM: I see the beach swimming after sunset

Mrs. T: I have never done this.

Mr. FFF: I had a friend who rejoiced every time she had a chance to swim during the night. She could stay up all night swimming.

Τα πρωτα μου χρονια τ’ αξεχαστα τα’ ζησα κοντα στ’ ακρογιαλι,

Στη θαλασσα εκει τη ρηχη και την ημερη,

στη θαλασσα εκει την πλατιεα, τη μεγαλη…

Στη θαλασσα εκει…

Κωστης Παλαμας

I have lived my first unforgetable years by the beach,

There by the shallow and quite sea,

the wide, the great sea, there…

There by the sea

Kostis Palamas

MM: I see the Hotel des Roses in Rhodes.

Mrs. T: I like roses.

Mr. FFF: This is where I was going to swim when I was a kid. For hours on and on. 10am to 7pm. Full time job.

MM: I see the bay of Ladiko, near Kolymbia in Rhodes.

Mrs. T: Looks great!

Mr. FFF: It was even better when there was nobody there! Years ago, access to the bay was blocked and the man who had the keys was a good family friend.

MM: I see food and drinks by the beach.

Mrs. T: Allow me. First stop is Damianos Fishtavern, Ambelas, Paros island, Greece.

Mr. FFF: Wonderful setting, and dedication to serving good seafood all year round.

Mrs. T: It is amazing how different food tastes when you smell the sea breeze!

MM: I see food and drinks on the cliff.

Mrs. T: Second stop. Akelare Restaurante, San Sebastian, Basque Country.

Mr. FFF: Up on a cliff, overlooking the Atlantic, stands one of the shrines of gastronomy in the wonderful land of the Basque people.

Mrs. T: The place is full of the joy of life.

Η θέα

MM: I see seafood by the beach at night.

Mrs. T: Third stop. Ristorante Uliassi, Senigallia, Marche, Italia.

Mr. FFF: Now we are in the Riviera Romagnola, where the ITalians have invented the “beach without the sea”. Nevertheless, in this riviera, where everything happens, where the high and the low co-exist peacefully, Uliassi does his magic. It is worth the trip. Even if you do not make it to the sea.

MM: I see seafood on a balcony overlooking the beach.

Mrs. T: Aristodimos Fishtavern, Pachi, Megara, Greece.

Mr. FFF: Back to the homeland. An unassuming small seaside town 40 km from Athens presents the goods of the sea in a way that honors centuries of eating seafood.

Κουκλι σκετο, με το κλωναρι συκιας να βγαινει μεσα απο την προβλητα!

MM: I see Death encounters by the beach.

Mrs. T: Disillusioned knight Antonius Block and his squire Jöns return after fighting in the Crusades and find Sweden being ravaged by the plague. On the beach immediately after their arrival, Block encounters Death.

Mr. FFF: Black and White. The agony of Man in front of the inevitable. But the sea makes everything look natural. This is why the sea gives another meaning to life.

Mrs. T: (reading from a book): “The whole beach, once so full of colour and life, looked now autumnal, out of season; it was nearly deserted and not even very clean. A camera on a tripod stood at the edge of the water, apparently abandoned; its black cloth snapped in the freshening wind.”

Mr. FFF: (reading from the same book): “Some minutes passed before anyone hastened to the aid of the elderly man sitting there collapsed in his chair. They bore him to his room. And before nightfall a shocked and respectful world received the news of his decease.”

“Prayer does not change God, but it does change the one who prays.”
Soren Kirkegaard

“The essence of truth is freedom”

Martin Heidegger

Participants

Achilles

Ingmar Bergman, Swedish Film Director

Leopold Bloom

Briseis

Priest Chryses

Chryseis

Stephen Daedalus

Mr. FFF, wanderer

Caspar David Friedrich, German Painter

Martin Heidegger, German Philosopher

Friedrich Hoeldrlin, German Poet

(young) Gerty

Homer, Greek Poet

Soren Kirkegaard, Dane Philosopher

MM, partner

Kostis Palamas, Greek Poet

Alexandros Papadiamantis, Greek Writer

Nikos Gabriel Pentzikis, Greek Writer and Painter,

Otto Preminger, American Film Director

Rainer Maria Rilke, Bohemian-Austrian Poet

Mrs. T, gourmant

References

Akelare Restaurant, San Sebastian, Basque Country

Aristodimos Fishtavern, Pachi, Megara, Greece

Damianos Fishtavern, Ambelas, Paros Island, Greece

From Here to Eternity, A Film by: Otto Preminger

A Hole in the Head. A Film by: Frank Capra

Edge of Heaven (Auf der anderen Seite), A Film by Fatih Akin

Restaurante Uliassi, Senigallia, Marche, Italia

When eros makes life impossible: A “Fluxus Eleatis” discourse

In the surging swell,
In the ringing sound,
In the world-breath
In the waves of the All
To drown,
To sink, to drown –
Unconscious –
Supreme bliss –

Tristan and Isolde: Act III, Scene III

MM: Mathilde A jumps in the torrent created by the rain. Her body is recovered a few hours later.

Mrs. T: Mathilde B shoots Bernard first, and then she shoots herself. Both are dead instantly.

Mr. FFF: Diane runs screaming to her bed and she shoots herself.

von Grimmelshausen: Werther new that one of the three of them, Albert, Lotte and Werther himself, would have to die. He could not kill anyone but himself.

Mathilde A: (reads her suicide note) I am going before your desire dies. Then we’d be left with affection alone, and I know that won’t be enough. I’m going before I grow unhappy. I go bearing the taste of our embraces, your smell, your look, your kisses. I go with the memory of my loveliest years, the ones you gave me. I kiss you now so tenderly, I die of it.

Mathilde B: I needed to talk to him (Bernard). This is all I was thinking about when I was in the hospital (recovering from a nervous breakdown). But when the time came for me to go, and I put on my raincoat, without plan, withour hesitation, I got the handgun that Philippe (my husband) ket in his study and put it in my pocket. I kissed hm passionately. We rolled on the floor. And when he was on top of me, and when the last intercourse was over, I pulled the gun and I shot him. He did not even realize what was happening. I then turned the gun to my left temple and pulled the trigger. It was over in less than thirty seconds.

Diane: When I saw the blue key on my coffee table I knew that the deed was done. Camilla was no longer in this world. It had to be this way. She betrayed me. She was going to marry Adam. She was also fucking about. She was no good. She had to go. But I had to go as well.

Werther: And so it is the last time, the last time that I open these eyes…Lotte, it is a feeling unlike any other, and still it seems like an undetermined dream for one to say to himself: this is the last morning. … Lotte, I have no idea about the meaning of the word: the last! To die! what does it mean? I have seen many people dying; but humanity is so limited that it has no felling for the beginning and the end of its existence. .. All these are perishable, but there is no eternity that can erase the warmth of life that I tasted yesterday in your lips and I now feel inside me! She loves me! These arms have held her, these lips have touched hers trembling, this mouth has whispered something to hers. She is mine! You are mine! Yes, Lotte, for ever.

Mrs. T: Who is this von Grimmelshausen?

Mr. FFF:He is a German scholar from the Black Forest.

MM: How come he is here with us?

Mr. FFF: He is traveller. He goes to places. He meets people. That’s how.

Mrs. T: Have you seen what is inside the brown leather bag he is carrying with im like a treasure?

Mr. FFF: I recall you back to order!

Mrs. T: Ok, I was just curious.

Madame Guyon: The noonday of glory; a day no longer followed by night; a life that no longer fears death, even in death itself, because death has overcome death, and because whoever has suffered the first death will no longer feel the second.

Matthias Claudius: Man’s way of thinking can pass over from a point of the periphery to the opposite point, and back again to the previous point, if circumstances trace out for him the curved path to it. And these changes are not really anything great and interesting in man. But that remarkable, catholic, transcendental change, when the whole circle is irreparably torn up and all the laws of psychology become vain and empty, where the coat of skins is taken off, or at any rate turned inside out, and man’s eyes are opened, is such that everyone who is conscious to some extent of the breath in his nostrils, forsakes mother and father, if he can hear and experience something certain about it.

Horace: How is it that no one is satisfied with his own condition?

Filippo Ottonieri: The reason is that no condition is happy. The servvants, as well as the princes, the poor as well as the rich, the weak as well as the powerful would all be extremely well satisfied with their lot and would feel no envy for the others were they happy; for men are no more impossible to satisfy than any other species; but they can be content with happiness only. Now, as they are always unhappy, should we wonder if they are never satisfied?

Julia Kristeva: To be sure, analytic discourse does not, or at any rate does not always suffer from the apparent excesses of amorous language, which range from hypnotic fascination with the presumed ideal qualities of the partner to hysterical sentimental effusion to phobias of abandonment. Nevertheless, it is want of love that sends the subject into analysis, which proceeds by first restoring confidence in, and capacity for, love through the transference and then enabling the subject to distance himself or herself from the analyst. From being the subject of an amorous discourse during the years of my analysis (and, in the best of circumstances, beyond them), I discover  my potential for psychic renewal, intellectual innovation, and even physical change. This kind of experience seems to be the specific contribution of our modern civilization to the history of amorous discourse. The analytic situation is the only place explicitly provided for in the social contract in which we are allowed to talk about the wounds we have suffered and to search for possible new identities and new ways of talking about ourselves.

Arthur Schopenhauer: Selfishness is “eros” (in Greek ερως), sympathy or compassion is “love”  (in Greek αγαπη).

Friedrich Nietzsche: The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night.

Christiane Olivier: Is love, then, an impossibility? The couple is the fantasy of finding again, at last, a mother whom one has never yet met: for the woman, desiring; for the man, not stifling. It is the dream so well imagined by Verlaine: “I often have this strange, affecting dream of an unknown woman, who loves me and whom I love, and who each time is neither quite the same, nor quite other.” 

MM: Eros and Thanatos.

Mrs. T: Libido and Mortido.

Mr. FFF: Life instinct and death instinct.

MM: We are back in the field of the philosophy of the opposites!

Mrs. T: But are we? It appears to me that somehow Eros leads the actor to Thanatos! I see no opposites here, I see two complementary instincts.

Mr. FFF: I wish it were as simple as that. In my view Eros not only leads to Thanatos in the cases under consideration, it seems to me that Eros appeals to Thanatos to seal its eternal meaning. As if Eros does not attain its ultimate state unless it reaches Thanatos.

Jacinta: I was sixteen when, one night while I was sleeping, I had a dream. (Woe is me! And even when I was awake I relieved that dream.) I was going through a lovely forest and in the very depths of the forest, I met the most handsome man I had ever in my life seen. His face was shadowed by the edge of a fawn cape with silver hooks and catches. Attracted by his appearance, I stopped to gaze at him. Eager to see if his face looked as I imagined, I approached and boldly pulled aside his cape. The moment I did, he drew a dagger and plunged it into my heart so violently that the pain made me cry out, and all my maids came running in. As soon as I awoke from this dark dream, I lost sight of the fact that he had done me such injury, and I felt more deeply affected than you can imagine. His image remained etched in my memory. It did not fade away or disappear for ever so long. Noble Fabio, I yearned to find a man with exactly his appearance and bearing to be my husband. These thoughts so obsessed me that I kept imagining and reimagining that scene, and I would have conversations with him. Before you knew it, I was madly in love with a mystery man whom I didn’t know, but you must believe that if the god Narcissus was dark, then surely he was Narcissus.

Arthur Schopenhauer: They tell us that suicide is the greatest act of cowardice… that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person.

Herodotus: When life is so burdensome, death has become for man a sought-after refuge.

ΜΜ: Freud claimed the death instinct drives people to death so that they can have real peace, and only death can get rid of tension and struggles. This is the case of Werther.

Mrs. T: When people feel extreme joy, they want to die and hope time will stop at that moment, which is also the evidence of death instinct, the transformation of life instinct into death instinct. This is the case of Mathilde A.

Mr. FFF: The death instinct exists in almost everyone’s subconscious. It is an irresistible instinctive power in human beings’ consciousness. Many people may deny that there is a death instinct in their consciousness. Indeed, people’s life instinct is very strong. However, if they examine their flashes of idea in their consciousness, they can find that just like death instinct, their desire for death is sometimes also very strong.

Jacinta: Because of this obsession I could neither eat nor sleep. My face lost its color and I experienced the most profound melancholy of my life. Everyone noticed the changes in me. Who, Fabio, ever heard of anyone loving a mere shadow? They may tell tales about people who’ve loved monsters and other incredible things, but at least what they loved had form! I sympathized with Pygmalion who loved the statue that ultimately Jupiter brought to life for him, and with the youth from Athens, and with the lovers who loved a tree or a dolphin. But what I loved was a mere fantasy, a shadow. What would people think of that? Nobody would believe me and, if they did, they’d think I’d lost my mind. But I give you my word of honor as a noblewoman, that not in this or in anything else I’ll tell you, do I add a single word that isn’t the truth. You can imagine that I talked to myself. I reproved myself, and, to free myself from my obsessive passion, I looked very carefully at all the elegant young men who lived in my city and tried to grow fond of one of them. Everything I did simply made me love my phantom more, and nowhere could I find his equal. My love grew and grew so great that I even composed poetry to my beloved ghost.

Julia Kristeva: Loss of the erotic object (unfaithfulness or desertion by the lover or husband, divorce, etc) is felt by the woman as an assault on her genitality and, from that point of view, amounts to castration. At once, such a castration starts resonating with the threat of destruction of the body’s integrity, the body image, and the entire psychic system as well. As a result, feminine castration, rather than being diseroticized, is concealed by narcissistic anguish, which masters and protects eroticism as a shameful secret.

MM: I love you so much I want to kill myself.

Mrs. T: I love you so much I want to kill you.

Mr. FFF: I love you so much I want to kill myself, but I will kill you first, before you kill me.

Albert Camus: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.  Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.  All the rest – whether or not the world has three dimensions, whether the mind has nine or twelve categories – comes afterwards.  These are games; one must first answer [the questions of suicide].”

Arthur Schopenhauer: To those in whom the will has turned and denied itself, this very real world of ours, with its suns and galaxies, is – nothing.

MM: Driven to suicide by eros is one thing, killing your lover and then killing yourself is another.

Mrs. T: It may not be premedidated, but evolutionary. You start by wanting to exterminate the cause of your living hell, your lover, and you do. And then, after you have done it, you figure out that the road has now opened for your own departure from this world as well.

Mr. FFF: This theory may apply to both Diane and Mathilde B. I would like to note though, that Time could be the differentiator. In Mathilde B’s case, she kills herself imeediately after she has killed Bernard. Whereas Diane kills herself after she realizes that the “contract” on Camille’s life has been successfully executed.

Participants

Albert Camus, French philosopher

Matthias Claudius, German poet

Diane Selwyn, protagonist in David Lynch’s “Mulholland Drive”

von Grimmelshausen, a German nobleman and writer

Madame Guyon, French mystic

Mr. FFF, wanderer

Herodotus, Greek historian

Horace, Roman poet

Jacinta, character in Maria de Zayas’ “The enchantements of love”

Julia Kristeva, French-Bulgarian psychoanalyst

Mathilde A, the hairdresser in Patrice Leconte’s “The Hairdresser’s Husband”

Mathilde B, the woman next door, in Francois Truffaut’s “The Woman next Door”

MM, partner

Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher

Christiane Olivier, French psychoanalyst

Filippo Ottonieri, a very thin disguise for Giacomo Leopardi himself

Arthur Schopenhauer, German philosopher

Mrs. T, unknown ethinicity, gourmant

Werther, a fictional character created by Goethe

The Sea: A “Fluxus Eleatis” discourse

Archilochus: Look Glaucus! Already waves are disturbing the deep sea and a cloud stands straight round about the heights of Gyrae, a sign of storm; from the unexpected comes fear.

Julia Kristeva: We are no doubt permanent subjects of a language that holds us in its power. But we are subjects in process, ceaselessly losing our identity, destabilized by fluctuations in our relations to the other, to whom we nevertheless remain bound by a kind of homeostasis.

W.B. Yeats: What can be explained is not poetry. 

First Steward: Good evening Mrs. T, Mr. FFF, welcome on board! Your cabin is ready. Is there something we can do for you before we show you to your cabin?

Mrs. T:  Good evening Mr. Gerassimidis! It is always nice to see you!

Mr. FFF: Good evening to you too! It is good to see you again! Are we on time?

First Steward: We are on time, and we are going to have calm seas.

Mr. FFF: What time is dinner served?

First Steward: We start at 8pm sharp. Shall I book a table for you?

Mr. FFF: Yes, please. Now you can show us to our cabin.

Mrs. T: How long is the journey?

Mr. FFF: Approximately 18 hours. Assuming the sea is calm. It could be 14 hours, but with all the interim ports of call the time increases significantly.

Mrs. T: Are we going to see the dolphins?

Mr. FFF: Only if we are lucky. But if we do, it is a spectacular ballet show. And the music of the sea with the humming of the ship’s engines in the background brings the experience to supernatural levels.

Ανωνυμος Ναυτης: Θυμαμαι την πρωτη μου αναχωρηση μ’ ενα μεγαλο ποσταλε. Τη στιγμη εκεινη που πραγματοποιουσα το λαμπροτερον ονειρο μου, ημουν γιοματος αμφιβολια και φοβο.

(Unnamed Mariner: I remember my first sailing on a big postale. The moment I was realizing my brightest dream, I was full of doudt and fear.)

Alvaro Mutis: This is how we forget: our affairs, no matter how close to us, are made strange through the mimetic, deceptive, constant working of a precarious present. When one of these images returns with all its voracious determination to survive intact, then what learned men call epiphany occurs: an experience that can be either devastating or a simple confirmation of certain truths that allow us to go on living.

Maqroll “el Gaviero”: I think I’ve exaggerated the true significance of the death of the Duc of Orléans. . . . There’s a monotony in crime, and it’s not advisable to have too much to do with it in books or in life.

Jon Iturri: For three consecutive days we stayed in Hotel Lisboa without exiting the room, which we had transformed into a kind of our own universe, where incidents of eroticism were coming one after another, with the only words given to describing our childhood years and how we discovered the world.

Alvaro Mutis: Because, of course, in a place like that, one experiences situations which are extreme and absolute. In there the density of human  relations is absolute. And there is one thing you learn in prison, and I passed it on to Maqroll, and that is that you don’t judge, you don’t say, that guy committed a terrible crime against his family, so I can’t be his friend. No, in a place like that one coexists. The judging is done by the judges on the outside.

Ανωνυμος Ναυτης: Δεν μπορω να καταλαβω κι εγω ο ιδιος τον εαυτο μου. Ειναι ωρες που νομιζω πως δεν ειμαι τιποτα περισσοτερο απο το μαυρο θερμαστη Τζοννυ, που ζει μοναχα για να τρωει. Ειναι ωρες που νομιζω πως ολα μεσα μου εχουν πεθανει και λεω πως η καρδια μου εχει σκληρυνει, καθως οι παλαμες μου. .. Εχω δει τοσα και τοσα… Κι αλλες ωρες παλι, νομιζω πως μεσα μου εχω ολη την καλοσυνη και την αγνοτητα, που λειπει του κοσμου…

(Unnamed Mariner: I cannot understand my own self. There are moments I think I am nothing more than the black fireman Johnny, who lives only to eat. There are moments I think that everything inside me is dead and I say that my heart is as tough as my palm… I have seen a lot… And then, I think that I have in me all the goodness and purity that the world is longing for…)

Mr. FFF: I have often pictured myself in Tangier, restless and subdued, loving it and hating it, looking from a hill all the way to the north, to Gibraltar, to the escape. Crossing the Pillars of Hercules, entering another life, another planet, another universe, getting away from all the mess. In this sense a sea journey always has this cleansing aspect. The sea takes away all the mess you carry with you.

Mrs T: Why in Tangier?

Mr. FFF: Because I still have this dream that I am in Tangier and I meet W S Burrows in one of the tea shops up on the hill. And then I get on a boat and leave him behind. We do not exchange a single word. We just look at each other and drink tea. As a matter of fact, nobody in the tea shop talks. They drink tea and smoke shisha. I wanted to ask Burrows why he killed Joan Vollmer.

W S Burrows: (we hear his voice through a cloud, but cannot see him) I am forced to the appalling conclusion that I would never have become a writer but for Joan’s death, and to a realization of the extent to which this event has motivated and formulated my writing. I live with the constant threat of possession, and a constant need to escape from possession, from control. So the death of Joan brought me in contact with the invader, the Ugly Spirit, and maneuvered me into a life long struggle, in which I have had no choice except to write my way out.

Mrs. T: The sea cleanses, the sea kills, the sea destroys all evidence of a committed crime. The sea gives you refuge, the sea hides you away from the prying eyes of society, it is the protector of the all the runaways. Hide away, hide away sinful souls! But even worse is the running away of those who have not committed any crime, but run away from themselves. Even the sea cannot save them.

Headwaiter: Would you like to have a drink before your meal?

Mrs. T: I would like a bitter Campari with soda water, a slice of lemon and ice.

Mr. FFF: A double scotch on the rocks for me please.

Headwaiter: Certainly. Here is our menu for tonight. I recommend the grilled shark steak. It is as fresh as it gets.

Mrs. T: Did you catch the shark while sailing? I would loooove to have the juicy grilled shark steak with sea weed rolls stuffed with angulas. 

Headwaiter: I had these rolls in Bilbao, and I loved them,. Unfortunately I cannot offer them to you tonight. Could I possibly offer you instead boiled vegetables with mustard sauce?

Mrs. T: Of course, it was a long shot anyway! Boiled vegetables will be fine. But please hold the mustard sauce.

Mr. FFF: Shall we have a robust white wine with the shark? Like assyrtico from Santorini.

Headwaiter: Splendid choice, I can serve you “Santorini” by Sigalas, 2008.

Ανδρέας Σπερχής: Βεατρίκη!…Βεατρίκη!…Συγχώρησέ με.

(Andreas Sperchis: Beatrice!.. Beatrice!… Forgive me!)

W.B. Yeats

Cast a cold Eye
On Life, on Death.
Horseman, pass by!

Υβοννη: Τι συμβαίνει και δεν ημπορεί κανείς να απολαμβάνη πάντοτε τον έρωτα σαν μίαν ωραίαν οπώραν {…}, σαν ένα ωραίο τοπείον, σαν ένα ωραίο ξένοιστο πρωί, πασίχαρο, αυροφίλητο, γιομάτο ευφροσύνη, σαν ένα μυροβόλο περιβόλι, ή σαν μια καθαρή αμμουδιά, λουσμένη από γαλάζιο πέλαγος ευδαιμονίας; Μήπως δεν φταίει καθόλου, μα καθόλου ο έρως  (εξηκολούθησε να σκέπτεται μα αιμάσσουσαν καρδίαν η Υβόννη). Μήπως φταίει ο τρόπος με τον οποίον αντιμετωπίζουν οι άνθρωποι τον έρωτα, τόσον εις το ατομικόν, όσον και εις το κοινωνικόν επίπεδον; Μήπως, αν δεν έμπαινε στη μέση το λεγόμενον «αίσθημα» και η λεγομένη «ηθική», θα ημπορούσε τότε μόνον να είναι ο έρως τέλειος και απλός και εύκολος, επ’ άπειρον πανήδονος και απολύτως παντοδύναμος – όλο χαρά (μόνο χαρά), όλο γλύκα (μόνο γλύκα), χωρίς απαγορεύσεις, στερήσεις, πικρίες, διάφορα «μούπες-σούπα» και άλλα αηδή και ακατανόητα, όπως η αποκλειστικότης, η εντός του γάμου αγνότης και όλη η σχετική με αυτόν απέραντη όσον και μάταια ηθικολογία και φιλολογία;

(Yvonne: Why is it that one cannot enjoy sex as a tasty fruit… as a beautiful landscape, as a wonderful morning, without worries, full of joy, fresh air, as a garden full of perfumes, or a shiny sandy beach, caressed by the blue sea? Could it be that this has nothing to do with eros? < continued to wonder with her heart bleeding >. Could it be the way that people handle eros both on a personal and on a social level? Could it be that if there were no “emotional” component and the so called “ethical” dimension, that eros could be perfect and simple and easy, endlessly hedonistic and absolutely omnipotent – full of joy – only joy – without prohibitions, bitter moments, all the incomprehensible  nonsense like fidelity, exclusivity, purity within the wedding and other similar stuff?)

Mr. FFF: (reading from the voluminous novel “Great Anatolikos”, of Andreas Empeirikos) Yvonne all of a sudden stopped crying. It was as if she saw a light, a bright light coming from a lighthouse off the southeastern tip of the coast of Ireland.

Υβοννη: Μήπως, μα τον Θεόν, ο μόνος Θεός ήτο ένας τεράστιος και παντοδύναμος Ψώλων και, ουσιαστικώς, υπήρχαν μόνον ηδοναί, διά του πανισχύρου Πέους του και του υπερπλουσίου Σπέρματός του χορηγούμεναι; Και μήπως αι ηδοναί αύται, τουτέστιν αι ερωτικαί, ήσαν αι πράξεις εκείναι, που επλησίαζαν ασυγκρίτως περισσότερον απ’ οτιδήποτε άλλο τους ανθρώπους προς τον Μεγαλοψώλονα Θεόν, τον απόλυτον Πλάστην και Κτήτορα του Κόσμου, τον απόλυτον Κύριον των Δυνάμεων, τον απόλυτο Άρχοντα των Ουρανών και της μικράς μας Γης;

(Yvonne: Could it be, that the only God were a huge omnipotent Phallus, and, essentially, there were only pleasures on earth, disseminated eternally by its powerful flesh and abundant semen? And it could it also be, that these erotic pleasures, were the actions that were bringing humans close to the Omnipotent Phallus, the Absolute Creator and Owner of the World, the absolute Keeper of the Forces, the absolute Master of the Skies and our little Earth? )

Stendhal: J’entreprends d’écrire l’histoire de ma vie jour par jour

Γιωργος Σεφερης: Μερα με τη μερα ζουμε τη ζωη μας – δεν τη γραφουμε.

(George Seferis: Day by day we live our life – we do not write it.)


Dimitri Mitropoulos: There is a plan for April 1052, a grand tour; travelling on a ship we will call on all Mediterranean ports, where the Philharmonic (New York) under my humble direction, will play, not on board the ship, but in the concert halls of the cities. The route is roughly this: Liboa, Barcelona, Palermo, Athens, Tel-Aviv, Napoli, Roma, Firenze, Milano, Genoa. Later we added Paris to the tour, which means that the whole Orchestra will get off the ship in Marseille and return to the States from Cherbourg on another vessel.

Mr. FFF: The ashes of Maria Callas have been scaterred over these blue waters.

Mrs. T: Why did she die?

Mr. FFF: Because she could no longer love. And life without the ability to love had no meaning for her.

Mrs. T: If you have the ability to love, other people love you?

Mr. FFF: Not necessarily. But you have piece with yourself.

Mrs. T: So you are saying that Callas died because she could not find piece with herself.

Mr. FFF: Yes, you could put it this way.

Mrs. T: Why is it so hard. if not impossible, to find inner piece if you have lost the ability to love?

Mr. FFF: When you lose the ability to love, you begin to view life as an end, the end. Death takes over the mystery of life and it no longer is a mystery, but a horrid affair.

Ανωνυμος Ναυτης: Δεν εχω ερωτευτει ποτε στη ζωη μου… Εγνωρισα χιλιαδες γυναικες. Ειναι ολες τους παντοτε ιδιες… Εχω καιρο να κοιμηθω με γυναικες. Γι’ αυτο το πραμα οι ναυτες με κοροιδευουν. Εγω δεν φταιω… Ειναι μια ιστορια που η αρχη της ειχε γραφτει στο επιβατικο, που ταξιδευα αλλοτε… Ειναι μια θλιβερη ιστορια…Δεν θυμαμαι πια τ’ ονομα της. Αυτο δεν εχει καμια σημασια. Οι γυναικες δεν θα’ πρεπε να’ χουν ονοματα, αφου ολες τους ειναι ιδιες… Ταξιδευε απο την Αλεξανδρεια για τη Μασσαλια με τη μητερα της. Ητανε κορη ενος βαμβακεμπορου, που ειχε ξεπεσει κι αυτοκτονησε…. Μου χαρησε ενα πορτοφολι απο ψαροδερμα και της χαρισα το Σταυρο μου… Υστερα απο τρια χρονια στο Μπουενος Αιρες κοιμηθηκα μια νυχτια με καποια γυναικα. Το πρωι οταν εβγαλα το πορτοφολι μου να πληρωσω, δεν ξερω πως, εβγαλε μια φωνη καθως το ειδε κι εγω αλλη μια, οταν ειδα ενα μικρο σταυρο καρφωμενο στη ρομπα της… Μπορει και να το’ δα στον υπνο μου. Μου φαινεται ομως πως ολες οι γυναικες ειναι το ιδιο.

(Unnamed Mariner: I have never fallen in love in my life…. I have met thousands of women. They are always all the same… I haven’ t slept with a woman for a long time now. One of the reasons the sailors make fun of me. It is not my fault… It is a story whose beginning has been written on a passenger ship, where I used to work… It is a sad story… I no longer remember her name. It does not matter. Women should not have names, as they are all the same… She was travelling from Alexandria to Marseille with her mother. She was the daughter of a cotton merchant who went bancrupt and committed suicide. .. She gave me a wallet made of fishskin and I gave her my cross… Three years later, in Buenos Aires, I slept one night with a woman. In the morning, when I took out my wallet to pay her, I do not know, she screamed as she saw it and I screamed back when I saw a small cross pinned on her dress… I could be dreaming. Nevertheless, it appears to e that all women are the same.))

Frederico Fellini:  I love shipwrecks. Decadence is indispensable to rebirth

Mr. FFF: A dear friend years ago was bragging about specializing in the hauling of shipwrecks. In his own sarcastic way he was referring to his need – of the time – to relate to women in the middle of a huge personal crisis.

Alberto Moravia: (on Frederico Fellini’s film “E la Nave va”) What is brilliant,” is the intuition that European society of the Belle Epoque had emptied itself of all humanism leaving only an artificial and exhaustive formalism. The result was a society founded on a continuous yet contemptible melodrama. The other genial intuition is that of the fundamental unity of the world back then which was completely bourgeois or utterly obsessed with the bourgeoisie. This idea comes through magnificently in the scene where immaculate opera singers perform leaning over the iron balcony of the engine room as sweat-grimed workers cease stoking the furnace with coal to listen to the splendid voices.

Frederico Fellini: Opera has an insane aspect that is truly fascinating. Opera is a ritual, a Mass, a shepherd’s song…

Dimitri Mitropoulos: Here I am, on solid earth again, after an unforgettable sea trip! If you could only see me from a distance, how I survived these 19 horrible days on the lousy ship. But as you can see, I did not die; I made music and played bridge, trying to fight against the complete lack of comfort, the detestable food and the continuous rocking of the boat… I have thought of you more than one thousand times, I was sad, sad in the thought that it will be a long time before I see again the people I love. I wonder if my musical gifts and talent deserve this sacrifice.

Frederico Fellini:  It (filming) makes us regard people and things as if the whole world was a set at our disposal, an immense prop de­partment on which we lay our hands without asking permission. It is somewhat like a painter for whom objects, faces, houses, the sky are merely forms at his disposal. For the cinema everything becomes a still life without limits; even the feelings of others are something placed at out disposal.

Ανδρεας Εμπειρικος: Χτες ακουσα τον μεγαλυτερο μπασο του κοσμου τον Chaliapin. Τραγουδησε την περιφημη αρια απο την οπερα του  Mussorgsky Boris Godunov οπου ειναι θειος. Τραγουδησε και πολλα ρωσικα τραγουδια δραματικα, λυρικα, και λαικα. Και παντου θριαμβεψε. Τι φωνη, τι μεταλλο, τι χρωμα τι δυναμη! Σε κεραβνοβολει και σε χαϊδεβει συναμα. Μεγαλος αρτιστας ο Chaliapin.

(Andreas Empeirikos: Yesterday I heard the greatest bass of the world, Chaliapin. He sung the famous aria of Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov. He was divine. He also sung many other songs. He triumphed in each one of them. What a voice, what metal, what colour, what intensity! It hits you like a thunder and at the same time it caresses you. Chaliapin is a great artist.)

Mr. FFF: My grandfather was very fond of Chaliapin. He had loads of his records. But he had to exchange them for olive oil during the second world war. Primum vivere, deinte philosophare.


Ανδρεας Εμπειρικος: Πατερα… Δεν μου φαινεται δυνατον να συνεργασθω με εναν ανθρωπο σαν και σενα παρα την μεγαλη αξια που σου αναγνωριζω σε πολλα επιπεδα. Δεν ειναι αρκετα ανθρωπος για μενα. ..Λοιπον αντι να ξαναμπω στις δουλειες σου παραιτουμαι απ’ ολες περα για περα και σου αφηνω γεια.

(Andreas Empeirikos: Father… It does not appear possible to work with a person like you, in spite of how valuable I consider you in many areas. You are not human enough for me… So instead of joining you again in your business I resign from everything and bid you farewell.)



Ανωνυμος Ναυτης: Ζαλιστηκα. Ετσι οπως τοτε παιδι, που μ’ επιανε η θαλασσα. Τι ατιμο πραμα η ναυτια… Ξερατο, χολες. Γινεσαι μπαιγνιο, κουρελι. Τιποτ’ αλλο δε σκεφτεσαι, παρα πως θα ξεμπαρκαρεις, μολις φτασεις στο πρωτο λιμανι. Εφτασες; Τα ξεχνας ολα και ξαναφευγεις. Αρχιζεις να συνηθας. Νομιζεις. Δε σε ζαλιζει πια το ποτζι, μα σε χαλαει το σκαμπανεβασμα. Παει κι αυτο. Σου μενει να συνηθισεις τωρα οταν σκαμπανεβαρει και ποτζαρει μαζι. Εισαι νετα. Κανεις αχταρμα. Αλλαζεις καραβι. Πρεπει να μαθεις τα κουνηματα του καινουργιου. Καθε καραβι εχει τα δικα του. Ενας φορτηγισος ζαλιζεται σ’ ενα ποσταλι. Παραξενη αρρωστια. Φαρμακο… η στερια. Οι κουφοι, εκεινοι που εχουνε χασει την οσφρηση, δεν ζαλιζονται. Μητε οι τρελοι.

(Unnamed Mariner: I am sea sick. As when I was a kid, and the sea was making me sick. What a terrible thing … sea sickness. You become a wreck. You cannot think of anything else, but how to get off, as soon as you arrive at the first port of call. Have you arrived? You forget everything and sail off again. You begin to get used to it. You think you are. You change ship. You have to get used to the movements of the new ship. Every ship moves in its own way. A cargo ship sailor gets sick on a passenger ship. Strange sickness. The only medicine is the ground. The deaf, the ones who cannot smell anything, they do not get sea sickness. Neither do the mad.)

Ιωαννης ο Θεολογος (Αποκαλυψη): Και εδωκεν η θαλασσα τους νεκρους τους εν αυτη, και ο θανατος και ο Αιδης εδωκαν τους νεκρους τους εν αυτοις, και εκριθησαν εκαστος κατα τα εργα αυτων.

(St John the Divine: The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what he had done.)

Participants

Archilochus, 7th century BC Greek poet, from the island of Paros

Andreas Empeirikos: Greek born and raised in Vraila, Romania, writer and psychoanalyst

Mr. FFF, Greek, wanderer

First Steward, Greek, passenger ship

Frederico Fellini, Italian film maker

Headwaiter, passenger ship

Jon Iturri, Basque sea captain

Saint John the Divine, author of the Revelation

Maqroll “el Gaviero”, unknown ethnicity, hero in many Alvaro Mutis novels

Unnamed Mariner, in the journals of Nikos Kavvadias

Unnamed Millitary Officer, South American

Dimitri Mitropoulos, Greek conductor and composer

Alberto Moravia, Italian novelist

Alvaro Mutis, Colombian writer

Captain Nick, Greek, captain of motor ship “Gloria”

George Seferis, Greek poet and Nobel Laureate in Literature

Andreas Sperchis, Greek of Wallachian origin

Stendhal, French writer

Mrs. T, unknown ethnicity, gourmant

Voltaire: French writer and philosopher

W.B. Yeats, Irish poet and playwright

Yvonne, a passenger of “Megas Anatolikos”

Venice: A “Fluxus Eleatis” Discourse

Michel Foucault:  Discourse operates in four major ways. Discourse creates a world; discourse generates knowledge and “truth”; discourse says something about the people who speak it; discourse always incorporates elements of power.

Socrates und Alcibiades

 A poem by Friedrich Hoelderlin

“Warum huldigest du, heiliger Socrates,

“Diesem Juenglinge stets? kennest du Groessers nicht?

“Warum siehet mit Liebe,

“Wie auf Goetter, dein Aug’ auf ihn?

Wer das Tiefste gedacht, liebt das Lebendigste,

Hohe Jugend versteht, wer in die Welt geblikt

Und es neigen die Weisen

Oft am Ende zu Schoenem sich.

 

Gustav von Aschenbach: ‘What lies in wait for me here, Ambiguous Venice, Where water is married to stone, And passion confuses the senses?’

 

Farfarello: And so, if you’d like to give me your soul before its time, I’m here, ready to take it.

 

Luchino Visconti: The sky has to be orange, even if Fassbinder copies me in Querelle.

 

Mr. FFF:  I started my trip from the Northern Cemetery in Munich. I arrived in Venice by train. The Marathon run finished a few minutes ago. There are many visitors. The water of the lagoon has a dull grey color. It is chilly. It is cloudy but there is no rain. Mrs. T misses you already.

MM:  Do not get lost in the art farm that is Venice! I googled and saw that you have bad weather and it’s raining. Hope you got your wellies.

 

Apollo: Reason, control, and clarity

 

Gustav von Aschenbach: I am furious because I am forced to return, but secretly I rejoice.

 

Dionysus: Wander lust

 

Gustav von Aschenbach:  Vacillating, irresolute, absurd.

 

Thomas Mann: A life spiraling out of control.

 

Friedrich Hoelderlin:

Und immer,

Ins Ungebundene gehet eine Sehnsucht.

(And always,

there is a longing to dissolve)

 

Mr. FFF:   In Palazzo Grassi I met Mr. Dob, the Manga character that has been adopted by Takashi Murakami. He has three eyes and an energizing stare.  Mr. Dob inhabits Murakami’s masterpiece 727-272 (The Emergence of God at the Reversal of Fate). Mrs. T is in love with him but he ignores her.  For her, it was love at first sight. For him, she does not even exist.

 

MM:  Luckily today I will be on scrub watch so that should keep me busy enough not to think about not having the both of you around.

 

Don Giovanni:

 Deh vieni alla finestra, o mio tesoro,

Deh vieni a consolar il pianto mio.

Se neghi a me di dar qualche ristoro,

Davanti agli occhi tuoi morir vogl’ io.

Tu ch’ ai la bocca dolce piu che il miele,

Tu che il zucchero porti in mezzo il core!

Non esser, gioia mia, con me crudele!

Lascati almen veder, mio bell’ amore!

Friedrich Nietzsche: To experience a thing as beautiful means: to experience it necessarily wrongly – (which, incidentally, is why marriage for love is, from the point of view of society, the most unreasonable king of marriage). The demand for art and beauty is an indirect demand for the ecstasies of sexuality communicated to the brain.

 

Farfarello: Well, then, since of necessity you love yourself with the greatest love of which you’re capable, of necessity you desire your happiness as strongly as you can. And since this supreme desire of yours can never be satisfied even in the smallest degree, it follows that in no way can you escape being unhappy.

 

Gustav von Aschenbach: Time presses, time does not press

Constantine Cavafy: Πλαϊ στο παραθυρο ηταν το κρεββατι που αγαπηθηκαμε τοσες φορες. (By the window was the bed where we made love so many times).

 

Mr. FFF:  A Cretan Madonna in Santa Maria della Salute. It was taken from the Church of Saint Titus in the last minute before fleeing Candia and Crete, by the Commander of the Venetians Morozini. The Ottomans captured Candia immediately after. Crete and Venice, share a co-existence that brought El Greco to Venice before he continued his journey to go to Spain.

MM:  I can’t say I am doing such exciting stuff as you. I waited in line for an hour to change the tires on my car and now it’s being done. Nothing fun to report.  Of course I miss the both of you terribly. It seems like I cannot have meaningful conversation with anybody else, but you.  Not to mention the fact that we took our jokes and puns to a whole other level and now whatever jokes anybody tries to do is pointless.

 

Filippo Ottonieri: Except for the times of suffering, as well as of fear, I would think that the worst moments are those of pleasure because the hope for them and the memory of them, which occupy the rest of our lives, are better and much more pleasant than the pleasures themselves.

 

Thomas Schutte: Efficiency Men, Punta della Dogana, Venice

Jean Baudrillard: Everyday experience falls like snow. Immaterial, crystalline and microscopic, it enshrouds all the features of the landscape. It absorbs sounds, the resonance of thoughts and events; the wind sweeps across it sometimes with unexpected violence and it gives off an inner light, a malign fluorescence which bathes all forms in crepuscular indistinctness.  Watching time snow down, ideas snow down, watching the silence of some aurora borealis light up, giving in to the vertigo of enshrouding and whiteness.

 

Friedrich Hoelderlin:

 Wo aber gefahr ist, waechst,

Das Rettende auch.

(Where there is danger,

some Salvation grows there too.)

 

Gustav von Aschenbach : What if all were dead, and only we two left alive

Luigi Pirandello: The torment of imagining you far away – among other people who can have the joy of seeing you, talking to you, being near you while I am here without life because I can neither see you nor talk with you, nor be near you – can be mitigated only by the thought that you feel my presence within you and that even from far away you give me life, and that even in your silence you see me and talk to me; in one word, that I am alive and close to you, more than those who see you, talk to you, and are around you.

 


Mr. FFF:  Thomas Schuette’s “Efficiency Men” were waiting for me at the Punta della Dogana.  Their steel bodies were covered down to their knees by felt blankets. It was like a call to Joseph Beuys. His felt self is all over German Art.

 MM:  You realize I’m not having nearly as much fun as you are, but I expect to be entertained upon your return! So prepare lots of stories from Venice. You know the kind: money, blood and sex.

Giuseppe Ungaretti:

ECO

Scalza varcando da sabbie lunari,

Aurora, amore festoso, d’ un’ eco

Popoli l’ esule universe e lasci

Nella carne dei giorni,

Perenne scia, una piaga velata.

 

Luigi Pirandello: What life is there left for me? I don’t care anymore about anything. Only about you do I care, and all that concerns you, my Marta; if you suffer, suffering with you and for you; if you get angry, getting angry with you; if you hope, hoping with you and for you. And remaining – for as long as I stay alive, for as long as my eyes stay open, for as long as my heart keeps beating, for as long as the soul burns in me – with my eyes, my heart, my soul, enchanted by your beauty, by the charms of your person, by the divine nobility of your feelings and of your spirit.

Adele:

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am young again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am fun again

However far away I will always love you

However long I stay I will always love you

Whatever words I say I will always love you

I will always love you

Mr. FFF:  Fog everywhere. I boarded a U-boat where a rabbi was reading the Kaballah. Later, in Hotel Metropol during lunch I met an Indian Maharadja and his German maiden.

MM:  All these cultural encounters! We redid the kitchen; the hard part is over now. You may be interested to know that nothing works without me!

Gustav Mahler: I should not have cried on the train departing Venice. I should not have dismissed Alma’s music compositions. It is too late now.  I gave my name to von Aschenbach.

Discource Participants

Adele, English singer

Apollo, Greek God of light

Gustav von Aschenbach, German writer (through the pen of Thomas Mann, through the interpretation of Myfawny Piper, through the camera of Luchino Visconti, through the interpretation of Fluxus Eleatis)

Jean Baudrillard, French philosopher

Constantine Cavafy, Greek poet

Dionysus, Greek God of pleasure

Farfarello, character created by Giacomo Leopardi

Michel Foucault, French philosopher

Mr. FFF, wanderer

Don Giovanni, a young, extremely licentious nobleman (created by Lorenzo da Ponte)

Friedrich Hoelderlin, German poet

Gustav Mahler, Austrian composer

Thomas Mann, German writer

MM, partner

Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher

Filippo Ottonieri, philosopher created by Giacomo Leopardi

Luigi Pirandello, Italian writer and Nobel Laureate

Giuseppe Ungaretti, Italian poet

Luchino Visconti, Italian director

The late Mattia Pascal – Ο μακαριτης Μαθιος Πασκαλης

Lyobov Popova: Sketch for a portrait

Introduction

For the moment (and God knows how much it pains me), I have died already twice, but the first time was a mistake, and the second—well, you may read for yourself . . .

Luigi Pirandello, Forward to The Late Mattia Pascal

So, then, man is but a disguise, a lie and hypocrisy, both in himself and in regard to others. He will not have the truth told him, he avoids telling it to others, and all this disposition, so far removed from justice and reason, is rooted by nature in his heart.

Blaise Pascal, Pensees

(both quotations are sourced from Ed Mendelowitz’s article)

Giorgio de Chirico: Portrait prémonitoire de Guillaume Apollinaire.

This is a story about the late Mattia Pascal, the hero in Luigi Pirandello’s 1904 novel, Il fu Mattia Pascal (The late Mattia Pascal)..

Through a movie made by Bernard L’ Herbier in 1925, Mattia assumed another identity (and life) as one of the alter egos of the Greek poet and Nobel Laureate, George Seferis.

In this post I will present Pirandello’s novel, hoping to continue in the future with Seferis’ alter ego.

The Author

Luigi Pirandello (1867-1936) was born in Agrigento, Sicily, the son of a rich mining contractor.

Having studied at the universities of Palermo and Rome and taken a degree in philology at Bonn, the young Pirandello turned to writing poetry and stories, achieving his first literary success in 1904 with his novel The Late Mattia Pascal. 

During World War I, Pirandello began to write for the stage, winning an international following with plays such as Six Characters in Search of an Author (1921) and Henry IV (1922).

In 1934, he received the Nobel Prize for Literature. Pirandello was the author of novels, essays, stories, and more than fifty plays, as well as an influence on writers as different as Eugène Ionesco and T.S.Eliot.

Pine tree with Pirandello’s grave

Commenting on his work in 1920 Pirandello wrote:

I think that life is a very sad piece of buffoonery; because we have in ourselves, without being able to know why, wherefore or whence, the need to deceive ourselves constantly by creating a reality (one for each and never the same for all), which from time to time is discovered to be vain and illusory….

My art is full of bitter compassion for all those who deceive themselves; but this compassion cannot fail to be followed by the ferocious derision of destiny which condemns man to deception.

Pirandello Museum

The Novel

The story

Mattia Pascal endures a life of drudgery in a provincial town.

Then, providentially, he discovers that he has been declared dead.

Realizing he has a chance to start over, to do it right this time, he moves to a new city, adopts a new name, and a new course of life—only to find that this new existence is as insufferable as the old one.

But when he returns to the world he left behind, it’s too late: his job is gone, his wife has remarried.

Mattia Pascal’s fate is to live on as the ghost of the man he was.

Francis Bacon: Study after Velazquez

Pirandello on personal identity

…So personal identity is also perception and interpretation, it is a mask, a construction.

And as ernerges from Pirandello’s work, either we play along, or we are out o f the game, i.e. society.

The authentic identity is an illusion; identity is fiction.

Luigi Pirandello

This means that we are always playing roles, with the onIy distinction being between those people who do it unconsciously and those who are aware of their condition.

The resulting character, in Pirandello, is one that is more or less conscious of the fragmentation of the self.

The protagonist usuaily suffers fiom the awareness of this fragmentation whereas the secondary characters generally perceive themselves as unified subjects.

(from Rachel Remington’s thesis)

Masks of No Theater

Pirandello and Heidegger

.…It’s difficult not to be stunned and impressed by the wisdom of Pirandello who had been employing these concepts in his art from his very first novel. But within the genre of novels, it was with Mattia Pascal that Pirandello inaugurated the series of personages to whom he would assign the arduous task of searching for their own authenticity in this Heideggerian sense. But upon the emptiness left by his presumed death, in fact, Mattia quickly reconstructs another persona which, only apparently different from the first, in reality represents its grotesque double. Mattia’s voyages, without any precise destination or practical utility, can seem like the modern transcription of the great romantic theme of vagabondage.

(Source: Wikipedia on Pirandello)

… Pirandello’s play (Cosi e) enacts a post-modern model of truth, which is characterized as an event, an arriving withdrawal, and as a particular affective relationship to that event. The event occurs in ec-static moments that open up the possibility for decisive action, and for the freedom to constitute a new order of life, what Martin Heidegger would call, a new way of being-in-the-world.

Pirandello shares with most existentialists the urgency of criticizing conventional (unauthentic) society…. But where Pirandello’s development of the existentialism problematic stands out is in the affinity between it and Heideggerian phenomenology. His likeness to Heidegger in describing the modalities of the solitary self (the losing of the self in the they) and the process by which the self relinquishes its central position as the subject of representation is … striking.

…Both for Pirandello and Heidegger, the truth of being-there is mysterious because truth is always intertwined with the concealment of truth’s withdrawal.

(Source: Anthony Petruzzi’s article)

Feu Mathias Pascal

Feu Mathias Pascal – The late Mathias Pascal (1925)

Since seeing a Paris production of Pirandello’s play Sei personnaggi in cerca d’autore, L’Herbier had been eager to collaborate with the author on a film of one of his work’s, but hitherto Pirandello had been unwilling to give permission for any adaptations because he would not accept the compromises that were asked of him.

When however a proposal was put to him on L’Herbier’s behalf to film his novel Il fu Mattia Pascal, he was sufficiently impressed by the film-maker’s earlier work to give his enthusiastic agreement.

It was after watching this movie that George Seferis adopted Mattia as one of his alter egos.

But this is the topic od another article, to come in the near (unknown) future.

Golo Mann: The History of Germany since 1789 – Part I

Born Angelus Gottfried Thomas Mann, he was the third son of the novelist Thomas Mann and his wife Katia Mann.

One of six children of Thomas Mann, he described the drawbacks of growing up with a famous novelist for a father.

Katia Mann with her six children

“We almost always had to keep quiet — in the morning because our father was working, in the afternoon because he first read, then napped, and toward evening, because he was again occupied with serious matters. And there would be a terrible outburst if we disturbed him, all the more hurtful because we almost never provoked him intentionally.”

(Source: The New York Times )

I got to know him because of his father, one of the giants of world lieterature, and bought his book “The History of Germnay since 1789” years ago, when I was living in England, and forgotabout it withour reading it. All of a sudden, the book appeared in front of me one afternoon as if it had a voice, and without any further delay I Started reading it. It was an instant love affair, that continues until today, after almost two months of reading it.

Golo Mann

In today’s post I want to start sharing with you some quotes from the book, which I consider one of the best history books on Europe. The original’s title is “Deutsche Geschichte des 19. und 20. Jahrhunderts”, first published in German in 1958. I use the English translation by Marian Jackson, reprinted by Penguin Books in 1990. For ease of reference, in each quote I will use  the page number of the 1990 reprint.

There will be two parts, the first covering the period from Napoleon to the end of Bismarck’s rule.

I am not aiming at reproducing the great intensity of the book, or summarize it. All I want is to present some elements of the work that are representative of its author and his views, which I find stimulating and challenging.

As an introduction to the period from 1789 to 1890, I offer the following timeline.

1813: Battle of the Nations at Leipzig; Napoleon is defeated

1848: a year of European revolutions; the Frankfurt Parliament convenes

1863: the Social Democratic Party of Germany is formed

1866: the kingdom of Prussia defeats the Austrian Empire in the battle of Koeniggaetz

1870: Bismarck emerges victorious from short war against the French

King Wilhelm of Prussia is proclaimed German Emperor

1871, January 18: GERMAN UNIFICATION – King Wilhelm of Prussia is proclaimed “German Emperor” in the Hall of Mirrors at the Chateau des Versailles. The German Empire is a confederation of 25 constituent states

1871: Bismarck becomes the first Chancellor of unified Germany

1875: Thomas Mann is born

1890: Bismarck resigns; Caprivi is sworn in a the next Chancellor

1898: Bismarck dies

Nations have always managed to find some rational necessity, some ideological reason for murdering each other (p. 28)

Nothing in history really starts at one particular moment (p.38)

The people’s of Europe have always learned from each other, and imitation is not necessarily follish (p. 59)

The moments in history in which noble enthusiasm reigns are short and one must be grateful for any lasting achievement from such a period (p. 67)

The mind of the individual is not a textbook, it is full of contradictions (p. 71)

… but eras follow each other without a break and clear divisions exist only in our minds (p. 85)

Ferdinand Lassalle

Our age is confused and devoid of ideas; it does not know what it wants and therefore anything seems possible (p.121)

A man without a home, without roots, cannot be effective, but he can see and speak, and that is what Heine did. (p. 142)

It is characteristic of men who have been disfranchised to take more than their share when they are liberated and to do to others what has been done to them (p. 169)

What anyway did right mean where interests conflicted, where two peoples were imbued with equal determination to survice? (p.171)

Anger unsupported by power can achieve nothing (p.178)

“The great questions of the age”, said Bismarck in 1862, “are not decided by speeches and majority decisions – that was the big mistake of 1848 and 1849 – but by blood and iron”. (p.204)

Ferdinand Lassalle once said: “Basically constitutional questions are not questions of law but of power; a country’s real constitution exists only in the actual prevailing political conditions. Written constitutions are only of value and permanence if they exactly express the existing distribution of power in sociaty”. (p. 214)

It is wrong entirely to condemn any class of human beings. The world is not a just place and when just men reach the top they are usually not as just as they promised to be while they were oppressed (p. 215)

Some men who are at odds with their age show that they belong to it by the extent of their opposition to it. (p.236)

Nevertheless he (Schopenhauer) was a Christian and distinguished between two basic tendencies in Christianity: an optimistic one promising paradise on earth, which he regarded as Jewish in origin, and an ascetic one proclaiming the misery and treachery of this world, teaching resignation and compassion. Something of this, which he found best expressed in the pantheism of the Indians, is present in his own work, and that is why a man who hated politics and modern society, a Christian commmunist like Leo Tolstoy, looked up to Schopenhauer as his master. (p. 239-240)

Yet he (Schopenhauer) wrote more beautiful and more forceful German than anybody who came after him; from the depths of German tradition, mysticism, romanticism and music came the moods which he skillfully combined into the four movements of his great symphony. (p. 240)

Arthur Schopenhauer

Everything that he (Bismarck) had tried to prevent or to delay, the worst that he feared, happened in the end: world wars, world revolution, the literal desctruction of the state which he idolized, with the result that the younger generation growing up today hardly knows the name of Prussia. Moreover, this happened not so very long after his death. People who knew him well actually experienced it; for example the wife of his son, who poisoned herself in 1945 a few hours before soldiers of the Red Army reached the family castle. A fate which serves to illustrate the futility of all political endeavour. Or should we say the futility of false, unjust and in the in the last resort unnatural political endeavour? Our story must seek to answer this question, although there will not be a clear yes or no. (p. 261-262)

He (Bismarck) denied energetically that Austria in the Balkans was defending German interests against Russia: “The mouth of the Danube is of very little interest to Germany”. Prussia had no reason to help Austria “to procure a few stinking Wallachians”. (p. 271)

His (Bismarcck’s) great achievement was not that he created German unity; that had been longed for and talked about for fifty years. What makes his achievement so very clever, daring and unnatural is the fact that he brought about German unity without the elements associated with it for fifty years: parliamentary rule, democracy, and demagogy. (p.287)

Bismarck saw the possible when it appeared and rejected the impossible. …If all but one player play a half-hearted game, the one who takes his game seriously is likely to win. (p.288)

The superior opponent attacks, and the attacker is almost always superiro; but he must know how to stop while he is still superiro. (p. 294)

Bismarck did not believe in elaborate constitutions. Like Lassalle he believed in the reality which alone would show what the constitution was and could be. (p. 307)

Often we are most eloquent about the virtues we lack…….The nature of politics does not permit a vacuum of power. (p. 312)

Payment for political services must be received in advance, not in retrospect. (p. 315)

But the frontiers between defence and attack are uncertain; and once the monster of war has been born it starts a life of its own not easily controllable by party political strategy. (p. 319)

Fuerst Otto von Bismarck
Fuerst Otto von Bismarck

Too much elaborate theory may harm a cause, as it has probably harmed American constitutional life to the present day. Too much brutal pragmatism has the same effect. The Reich suffered because bits that did not make a whole were hastily and roughly thrown together, the Prussian military monarchy, federation and universal suffrage. (p. 329)

Historical power is never without historical guilt (p. 345)

But the element which Stoecker (Adolf Stoecker was the court chaplain to Kaiser Wilhelm II, and founded the Christian Social Party in the 1870s) knew how to mobilize and which remained a sinister driving force in German politics was anti-semitism. It was an age-old, evil force which ahd existed in latent form from Christian, even pre-Christian, times onwards, concealed or under control and almost forgotten, only to break out again into brutal misdeeds. (p. 391)

For twenty -five years Bismarck had been Europe’s first statesman, at times its arbiter. His personal qualities entitled him to a place among the ranks of the great rulers of the past, Wallenstein, Cromwell and Napoleon. But whereas in comparable crises they did not hesitate to resort to extremes, to civil war and rebellion, all the Prussian Prime Minister could do was obediently to draft his letter of resignation (Bismarck resigned on 18 March 1890) the moment an undeserving young man asked him to do so. (p. 410-411)

Real Greece, Part III: Odysseus Elytis – Η πραγματικη Ελλαδα, Μερος ΙΙΙ: Οδυσσεας Ελυτης

“Εάν αποσυνδέσεις την Ελλάδα, στο τέλος θα δεις να σου απομένουν μια ελιά, ένα αμπέλι κι ένα καράβι. Που σημαίνει: με άλλα τόσα την ξαναφτιάχνεις.” (Οδυσσεας Ελυτης, Μικρος Ναυτιλος, ΜΥΡΙΣΑΙ ΤΟ ΑΡΙΣΤΟΝ (ΧΙV)

Πρελουδιο

Εν τω μεσω του ορυμαγδου περι της εκταμιευσεως 5ης δοσεως, της κοκορομαχιας των πολιτικων “αρχηγων”, και των συγκεντρωσεων των “αγανακτισμενων”, αισθανομαι να με καταπνιγει η ακαλαισθησια, η μικροπρεπεια, η ανικανοτητα, η κουτοπονηρια, η βλακεια, η πενια του πνευματος, η ελλειψη ορχεων,  ο στρουθοκαμηλισμος. Καταφευγω λοιπον επειγοντως σε ακομη μια πραγματικη Ελλαδα, που δεν εχει καμμια σχεση με ολα τα ανωτερω, την Ελλαδα του Οδυσσεα Ελυτη.

Η Διαφανεια

“ΟΤΙ ΜΠΟΡΕΣΑ Ν’ ΑΠΟΧΤΗΣΩ μια ζωή από πράξεις ορατές για όλους, επομένως να κερδίσω την ίδια μου διαφάνεια, το χρωστώ σ’ ένα είδος ειδικού θάρρους που μου ‘δωκεν η Ποίηση: να γίνομαι άνεμος για τον χαρταετό και χαρταετός για τον άνεμο, ακόμη και όταν ουρανός δεν υπάρχει..”  (Οδυσσεας Ελυτης, Ο Μικρος Ναυτιλος)

Ο Γ. Μπαμπινιωτης επισημαινει:

“Γενικά, κατόρθωσε να επινοήσει μιαν άλλη μορφή αντισυμβατικής γλώσσας, ώστε να ξυπνάει κάθε φορά τη συγκίνηση, το όνειρο, το συναίσθημα, την εικόνα, τη φαντασία, την ικανότητα να βλέπεις μέσα στα πράγματα, τη διαφάνεια δηλ., και να μεταβάλεις τη φευγαλέα στιγμή σε διάρκεια, μια άλλη βασική έννοια τής ποίησης τού Ελύτη.” (Το Βημα, Ο Ποιητης της Γλωσσας.)

Ο ιδιος ο Ελυτης στην πρωτη παραγραφο της ομιλιας του προς την Ακαδημια Επιστημων της Σουηδιας, αναφερει:

“Ας μου επιτραπεί, παρακαλώ, να μιλήσω στο όνομα της φωτεινότητας και της διαφάνειας. Επειδή οι ιδιότητες αυτές είναι που καθορίσανε τον χώρο μέσα στον οποίο μου ετάχθη να μεγαλώσω και να ζήσω. Και αυτές είναι που ένιωσα, σιγά – σιγά, να ταυτίζονται μέσα μου με την ανάγκη να εκφρασθώ. Είναι σωστό να προσκομίζει κανείς στην τέχνη αυτά που του υπαγορεύουν η προσωπική του εμπειρία και οι αρετές της γλώσσας του. ” (Οδυσσέας Ελύτης:Ομιλία κατά την απονομή του Βραβείου Νόμπελ, Στοκχόλμη, 8/12/1979.)

Αιγαιο και Γλωσσα

Ο ποιητης που λατρεψε το Αιγαιο, και σμιλεψε την ποιηση του με την ελληνικη γλωσσα αποφαινεται:

“Ένα δειλινό στο Αιγαίο περιλαμβάνει τη χαρά και τη λύπη σε τόσο ίσες δόσεις που δεν μένει στο τέλος παρά η αλήθεια.”

“Μια γλώσσα όπως η ελληνική όπου άλλο πράγμα είναι η αγάπη και άλλο πράγμα ο έρωτας. Άλλο η επιθυμία και άλλο η λαχτάρα. Άλλο η πίκρα και άλλο το μαράζι. Άλλο τα σπλάχνα κι άλλο τα σωθικά.”

(Οδυσσεας Ελυτης, Μικρος Ναυτιλος, ΜΥΡΙΣΑΙ ΤΟ ΑΡΙΣΤΟΝ (ΧΙV, ΧV)

Αναστασία Δούκα - Μερόπη Σούλη (Δ.Σ. Απολλωνίας Σίφνου)

Ελληνισμος

Η συρρικνωση του ελληνισμου μετα την επικρατηση των εθνικισμων – δεν το συνειδητοποιησαμε ποτε οσο επρεπε – μας αποστερησε απο τον τροπο να βλεπουμε τα πραγματα με την ανοιχτοσυνη εκεινη και την ισχυ που διεθετε το ιδιο μας το γλωσσικο οργανο σε μια μεγαλη εκταση του πολιτισμενου κοσμου. Απ’ αυτη την αποψη, οσο περιεργο και αν φαινεται, ο πριν απο τους δυο παγκοσμιους πολεμους υπηκοος του μικροσκοπικου τουτου κρατους ανασαινε τον αερα μιας περιπου αυτοκρατοριας. Οι δυνατοτητες του να κινηθει χωρις διαβατηριο γλωσσας καλυπτανε μεγαλα μερη της Ιταλιας και της Αυστριας, ολοκληρη την Αιγυπτο, τη νοτιο Βουλγαρια, τη Ρουμανια, τη Ρωσια του Καυκασου και, φυσικα, την Κωνσταντινουπολη με την ενδοχωρα της, ως κατω, κατα μηκος του Αιγαιου, τη λεγομενη στις μερες μας νοτιοδυτικη Τουρκια.  (Οδυσσεας Ελυτης, Εν Λευκω, Αναφορα στον Ανδρεα Εμπειρικο)

Γιατι γραφετε;

…ρωτανε συχνα τον ποιητη στις συνεντευξεις. Κι εκεινος βιαζεται ν’ απαντησει: “δεν ξερω”. Ειναι αληθεια οτι, απο μιαν αποψη, κι εγω ο ιδιος δεν ξερω. Απο μιαν αλλη ομως αισθανομαι οτι το απολυτως ατομικο μερος του εαυτου μου τοτε μονον θα το δω να επαληθευεται, οταν το αποστερησω απο την ιδιοτητα της προσωπικης περιπτωσης – οταν με αλλα λογια, το καταστησω κοινον.   (Οδυσσεας Ελυτης, Εν Λευκω, Τα μικρα εψιλον)

Heidegger-Weg (Heidegger's Path) – Part II: The French Connection

It is now more than five months since I have posted the first part of my tribute to Heidegger, following my visit to his hometown and the mountain retreat in the Black Forest. It is time to continue with the second part, which focuses on two French friends who became very important for Heidegger after the Second World War. One is a philosopher, Jean Beufret, and the other is a poet, Rene Char. Until the 1970’s Heidegger had a major impact on French intellectual life and philosophy. His two French friends, in their own way, have played a major role in this.

Thor Seminar, 1968: Heidegger in the middle, Beaufret far right

The Philosopher Jean Beaufret

Jean Beaufret is the French philosopher who played a key role in introducing and developing Heidegger’s ideas in France. Heidegger’s ideas were introduced in France in the 20’s and 30’s, but became highly influencial only after the second world war. Heidegger and Beaufret met in 1946 in Todtnauberg. Beaufret introduced Heidegger to French existentialism, and posed to him some questions with regard to Sartre’s address “Existentialism is a Humanism”, given earlier in the year. Beaufret wrote the questions hastily on a piece of paper in a Paris cafe so as to be delivered by a friend ready to leave for Freiburg. Heidegger in response to these questions wrote the “Letter on Humanism” and dedicated it to Beaufret. It was written at a time of great personal struggle for Heidegger: he had just been indefinitely banned from teaching following the Nazi war-crimes hearings, and he had undergone a kind of emotional breakdown as a result.

Jean Beaufret and Martin Heidegger

Beaufret taught philosophy at the Ecole Nationale Superieure from 1946 to 1962 and was in the core of Parisian intellectual life, being friend with among others Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Jacques Lacan, and Louis Althusser. In 1955, with Kostas Axelos, a Greek philosopher who was teaching in Paris, Beaufret organized the conference “What is Philosophy?”, in which Heidegger was welcomed by the leading French Philosophers.

Beufret edited and published some of the letters he exchanged with Heidegger in four volumes of “Dialogue with Heidegger”. The first volume is on Greek Philosophy.

The Poet Rene Char

It is not an accident that two of Heidegger’s most celebrated acquaintances are poets: the French Rene Char and the Romanian – German – Jewish Paul Celan.  As Heidegger observes in “Letter on Humanism”:

“Be[-ing], as what has come down <to us> which becomes truth, remains hidden. But the fate of the world is presaged in poetry, without its having as yet emerged as the history of be[-ing].”

In 1955, Jean Beaufret introduced Heidegger to the French poet Rene Char, during one of his to France. Prior to his arrival in France, Heidegger stated that the person he most wanted to meet was Char, whom he regarded as the most important contemporary thinker. They became friends and met many times in Provence, the birthplace of Char.

Rene Char and Martin Heidegger

One of his “surrealist” poem collections, written in the 30’s is “The Hammer without a Master”. Some of its verses, were set to music by Pierre Boulez. Here is one of them.

The furious handicraft

The red caravan on the edge of the nail
And corpse in the basket
And plowhorses in the horseshoe
I dream my head on the point of my knife is Peru

“There are those who leave behind poisons while others leave remedies. Difficult to tell which is which. You have to taste.
The immediate yes or no is healthy in spite of the corrections that will follow.”

[Rene Char: In a crude mountain shelter, translated by Susanne Dubroff]

Char has influenced Heidegger deeply. As Michael Worton comments “…this friendship led Heidegger to write his Gedachtes sequence of poems, which are among his last writings and bear the marks of Char’s poetic practice of thinking-through-language”.

Rene Char

Heidegger was so captivated by the landscape in Thor, the place of residence of Char, that he organized philosophy seminars there in 1966, 1968, and 1969. In the mornings the participants would sit under the trees in front of the house and discuss the topic of the seminar, while in the afternoons they would visit the surroundings. One topic was young Hegel’s words: “A torn stocking is better than a darned one; not so self-consciousness”. Another one discussed Marx’s eleventh Feuerbach thesis: “The philosophers have merely interpreted the world. The issue is to change it.”

 

 

The Greek Writer Aris Alexandrou – Ο λογοτέχνης και ποιητής Άρης Αλεξάνδρου

Today I want to pay tribute to Aris Alexandrou, a Greek writer who became known for his novel “The Mission Box”.

Σήμερα τιμώ τον μεγάλο Ελληνα Συγγραφέα Αρη Αλεξάνδρου, που είναι ευρύτερα γνωστός από το μυθιστόρημα του “Το Κιβώτιο”.

Γιος του Βασίλη Βασιλειάδη, Ελληνα από την Τραπεζούντα και της Πολίνας Αντοβνα Βίλγκελμσον, Ρωσίδας εσθονικής καταγωγής, ο Αριστοτέλης Βασιλειάδης, όπως ήταν το πραγματικό όνομα του Αρη Αλεξάνδρου, γεννήθηκε στο Λένινγκραντ το 1922. Ήρθε με τους γονείς του στην Ελλάδα το 1928 και εγκαταστάθηκαν στην αρχή στη Θεσσαλονίκη και αργότερα στην Αθήνα. Τελείωσε τις γυμνασιακές του σπουδές στο Βαρβάκειο το 1940 και έδωσε εξετάσεις στο Πολυτεχνείο, όπως επιθυμούσε ο πατέρας του. Τελικά πέρασε στην ΑΣΟΕΕ, αλλά το 1942 την εγκατέλειψε αποφασίζοντας να στραφεί στη μετάφραση. Ήταν η εποχή, μέσα στην Κατοχή που συνίδρυσε (με τους Ανδρέα Φραγκιά, Γεράσιμο Σταύρου κ.ά.) μια αντιστασιακή ομάδα.

Η απομάκρυνσή του από την ενεργό κομματική δράση και η μη συμμετοχή του στις δραστηριότητες της Αριστεράς και εδώ ειδικά στα γεγονότα του Δεκεμβρίου του 1944, δεν εμπόδισαν τις αγγλικές στρατιωτικές αρχές, που είχαν έρθει στην Ελλάδα, να τον συλλάβουν και να τον στείλουν στο στρατόπεδο Ελ Ντάμπα, όπου έμεινε έως τον Απρίλιο του ’45. Επίσης, παρόλο που δεν έχει ανάμειξη στον εμφύλιο πόλεμο συλλαμβάνεται το 1948 και, επειδή αρνείται να αποκηρύξει τις ιδέες του, στέλνεται και παραμένει διαδοχικά στα στρατόπεδα Μούδρου, Μακρονήσου και Άγιου Ευστράτιου, από τον Ιούλιο του 1948 έως τον Οκτώβριο του 1951. Στα στρατόπεδα συγκέντρωσης βιώνει την μοναξιά του “πρώην” μέλους του ΚΚΕ. Οι πρωην συντροφοι του δεν του συγχωρούν ότι διαφωνεί ανοιχτά με το κόμμα.

Γυαρος

Μετά ένα χρόνο, το Νοέμβριο του 1952, και ενώ είχε μείνει ελεύθερος δικάζεται από το Στρατοδικείο Αθηνών ως ανυπότακτος (κατά την εποχή που ήταν εξόριστος). Ο Αλεξάνδρου δεν αναφέρει στους στρατοδίκες το προφανές: ότι δηλαδή όταν ήταν να παρουσιαστεί στο στρατό ήταν ήδη εξόριστος! Αντί τούτου δηλώνει κομμουνιστής. Σημειώνω ότι είχε ήδη απομακρυνθεί από το ΚΚΕ. Καταδικάστηκε πρωτοδίκως σε 10 χρόνια ειρκτή και έμεινε διαδοχικά στις φυλακές Αβέρωφ, Αίγινας και Γυάρου. Στη Γυάρο οι συνθήκες είναι ακραίες, Δεν τους αφήνουν καν να βγούνε από τα κτίρια. Ο Αλεξάνδρου βιώνει την απόλυτη μοναξιά, αφοί οι πρώην “σύντροφοι” του τον έχουν αποκηρύξει.

Στην αναθεώρηση της δίκης η ποινή του περιορίστηκε στα 7 χρόνια και απολύθηκε τον Αύγουστο του 1958 με τη χάρη του ενός τρίτου. Από τις φυλακές βγαίνει τελικά τον Αύγουστο του 1958 και τον επόμενο χρόνο παντρεύεται την Καίτη Δρόσου για να εγκατασταθούν στο σπίτι της, στην οδό Σπετσών 45. Το 1966 αρχίζει να γράφει το «Κιβώτιο», το οποίο ολοκληρώνεται το 1972 στο Παρίσι. Με τη δικτατορία φεύγουν και οι δύο για το Παρίσι, από τον φόβο μιας νέας σύλληψης.

Ο Αλεξανδρου με την Καιτη Δροσου στο Παρισι

Εκεί αναγκάστηκε να κάνει (και ο ίδιος και η Καίτη Δρόσου) πολλές χειρωνακτικές δουλειές. Ενδεικτικά αναφέρω ότι εργάστηκε σαν συσκευαστής (έκανε πακέτα) για τoν μεγάλο οίκο μόδας Hermes. Όταν περάσαν οι εορτές και δεν χρειαζοντουσαν πια βοήθεια για τα πακέτα, ο Αλεξάνδρου τους έπεισε να τον κρατήσουν για να πλένει και καθαρίζει κάθε πρωί τα πεζοδρόμια μπροστά από το διάσημο μαγαζί  στην Faubourg Saint Honore. Μετα έκανε διάφορες άλλες μικροδουλειες, ενώ η Καιτη Δροσου δούλευε σαν καθαρίστρια.

Ο Αρης Αλεξανδρου πέθανε στη γαλλική πρωτεύουσα στις 2 Ιουλίου 1978 από καρδιακή προσβολή και μόλις πρόφτασε να δει τη μετάφραση του «Κιβώτιου» στα γαλλικά από τις εκδόσεις Gallimard.

Το «Κιβώτιο» θεωρείται κλασικό δείγμα αντι-μυθιστορήματος, καθώς ανατρέπει (χωρίς να ξενίζει) τους κανόνες και κώδικες της πεζογραφίας. Έχει περίπου τη δομή ενός προσωπικού ημερολογίου. Ο μύθος του «Κιβωτίου» είναι  συνοπτικά ο εξής: Μια 40μελής ομάδα επίλεκτων κομμουνιστών αναλαμβάνει τη μεταφορά ενός κιβωτίου από μια πόλη σε άλλη πόλη. Κανείς από την ομάδα δε γνωρίζει το περιεχόμενο του κιβωτίου. Οι διαταγές είναι αυστηρές, δεν επιτρέπεται  η βραδυπορία και οι τραυματίες πρέπει να «κυανίζονται» δηλαδή να εκτελούνται.
Τελικά, το κιβώτιο παραδίδεται στα χέρια των αρμοδίων, μετά από πολλές περιπέτειες, από το μοναδικό επιζήσαντα .
Όταν οι παραλήπτες ανοίγουν το κιβώτιο, διαπιστώνουν (με έκπληξη;) ότι είναι άδειο. Ο επιζήσας θεωρείται υπεύθυνος. Συλλαμβάνεται και  φυλακίζεται.

Ο Αλεξανδρος Αργυρίου σχολιάζει:

“Ο αφηγητής (ή ο συγγραφέας) δολιχοδρομώντας ανάμεσα στις αναρίθμητες απορίες (του ή μας) φτάνει συχνά στην άκρη του γκρεμού. Και επειδή εκεί επικρατεί το ένστικτο της αυτοσυντήρησης, που ο αφηγητής έχει αποδείξει ότι του είναι ισχυρό, ή της αυτοκαταστροφής που δρα υπόγεια, απομένουν δυο (τουλάχιστον) λύσεις για να διαλέξει: Ή τη σιωπή ή να συνεχίσει το παιχνίδι της αλήθειας – αυτοτραυματιζόμενος· με εμφανή τα στοιχεία της απόγνωσης.

Πιστεύω ότι το αφήγημα Κιβώτιο παίζεται από την αρχή του έως το τέλος, είτε έμμεσα είτε άμεσα, με συνείδηση της αβεβαιότητας απέναντι στα πράγματα, σε ό,τι ονομάζεται πραγματικότητα, στις ανθρώπινες πράξεις και προθέσεις και στην προφανή αντίφαση της άρνησης της λογικής δια της λογικής. Και όσο αποδεχόμαστε ότι η λογική εκφράζεται δια του λόγου, το Κιβώτιο σχοινοβατεί συνεχώς επάνω στις δυνατότητες του λόγου. Ένα όργανο που “ψεύδεται άμα και αληθεύει”.”

Η φιλία του Αλέξανδρου με τον Γιάννη Ρίτσο

Ο Αλεξάνδρου βρέθηκε στην παρέα του Ρίτσου, ανεξάρτητα από την Καίτη Δρόσου, χάρη στον, συμμαθητή του από το Βαρβάκειο, Ανδρέα Φραγκιά. Η φιλία του Αλεξάνδρου με τον Ρίτσο τον στήριξε και τον ενθάρρυνε στις πολύ δύσκολες στιγμές της ζωής του. Σε αντίθεση με άλλους πρώην συντρόφους, ο Ρίτσος ανεδείχθη σε άνθρωπο με διαρκή και ειλικρινή φιλικά συναισθήματα.

Η Καιτη Δροσου με τον Ριτσο

Η Καιτη Δρόσου αναφέρει: «Η συμπάθεια ήταν από την αρχή αμοιβαία. Κι έπειτα, βρέθηκαν κι οι δυο στου Γκοβόστη, όπου γίνονταν καταπληκτικές εκδόσεις, σκυμμένοι πάνω από τα τυπογραφικά δοκίμια. Ο Αρης μετέφραζε από τα ρωσικά, κι ο Γιάννης τα ξανακοίταζε μαζί μ’ έναν ρωσόφωνο ακόμα, μην τυχόν και τους ξεφύγει κάτι. Η δουλειά τούς έφερε κοντά…»

Πόσο διαφορετικές ιδιοσυγκρασίες ήταν, όμως! «Σίγουρα. Ο Γιάννης κηρύσσει! Με την καλή έννοια, βέβαια, αλλά κηρύσσει. Ενώ ο Αρης μιλάει μόνο όταν έχει κάτι να πει. Και, όταν έχει κάτι να πει, είναι πάντα σχετικό με την τέχνη. Σαν τον Φραγκιά κι αυτός, όταν διαπίστωνε ότι ο συνομιλητής του έχει αντίθετη άποψη, δεν έμπαινε στη διαδικασία να τον μεταπείσει -“δεν βγάζει πουθενά” έλεγε. Και μεταξύ μας ακόμη, στα λίγα χρόνια που προλάβαμε να ζήσουμε μαζί, τις λέξεις δημοκρατία, ελευθερία, ισότητα, διανόηση δεν τις μεταχειριζόμασταν. Τη χαρά ή τη δυσαρέσκειά μας την εκφράζαμε μέσω λαϊκών γαλλικών τραγουδιών…»

Ο Αλεξάνδρου είχε χάσει από νωρίς την εμπιστοσύνη του στο Κόμμα. «Επιτρέπεται να θαυμάζουν έναν ηγέτη λες και είναι Θεός; με ρώτησε μετά την προβολή ενός ντοκιμαντέρ από τις γιορτές της απελεύθερωσης στη Μόσχα, με τις εικόνες του λαμπροστολισμένου Στάλιν ακόμα νωπές. Η λέξη προσωπολατρία, όμως, εμφανίστηκε πολύ αργότερα…»

Ο συγγραφέας του «Κιβωτίου», έχοντας παραδεχθεί μέσα του την ήττα του Εμφυλίου, διέσχισε τα χρόνια της εξορίας του απομονωμένος από τους συντρόφους του, κι ας είχε σπεύσει ο Ρίτσος να εγγυηθεί γι’ αυτόν ότι είναι τίμιος κι ότι δεν θα βλάψει το Κόμμα ποτέ. Ούτως ή άλλως, οι δρόμοι τους χώρισαν. Έπρεπε να φτάσει το ’58, οπότε επέστρεψε κι ο Αλεξάνδρου από τη Γυάρο στην Αθήνα, για να μιλήσουν ξανά.

Γυαρος

«Το θέμα με τον Αρη και τον Γιάννη δεν ήταν να τα βρουν στα ιδεολογικά» συνεχίζει η κ. Δρόσου. «Το θέμα ήταν ποιος θα κάνει πρώτος την κίνηση να βγάλει το χαρτί απ’ την τσέπη, ποιος δηλαδή θα προκαλέσει ξανά συζήτηση πάνω σ’ ένα γραπτό, όπως θα μιλούσε στον δάσκαλό του». Απ’ τη μεριά της, το είχε ξεκαθαρίσει στον Αλεξάνδρου -«δεν ξέρω τι θα κάνεις εσύ, εγώ εξακολουθώ να συναντιέμαι με τον Ρίτσο». Κι εκείνος αμέσως της απάντησε: «Τότε γιατί δεν του λες να ‘ρθει;»

Η πρόσκληση αφορούσε το διαμέρισμα της οδού Σπετσών, εκεί όπου συνεχίζει να επιστρέφει κι η ίδια κάθε χρόνο από τη Γαλλία, το διαμέρισμα που εγκατέλειψαν οι δυο τους άρον άρον τον Απρίλιο του ’67, με μόνο εφόδιο τα ρούχα που φορούσαν.

Οι αποστάσεις που τήρησαν από τους Έλληνες αυτοεξόριστους «ήταν επιλογή μας», λέει, «καθώς τότε (σ.σ.: κατά τη διάσπαση του ΚΚΕ) έπρεπε να δηλώσει κανείς πού ανήκει, αν είναι υπέρ του Κολιγιάννη ή κατά».

Με τον Ρίτσο, ωστόσο, ο οποίος γνωρίζει νέες διώξεις τώρα, πιάνουν και πάλι ν’ αλληλογραφούν. Ο ποιητής, κάθε φορά που λαμβάνει αποσπάσματα του «Κιβωτίου», δεν σταματά να εγκαρδιώνει τον Αλεξάνδρου και να τον επικροτεί. «Είναι ένα όργιο φαντασίας», θα του γράψει όταν το διαβάσει ολοκληρωμένο, «που καλύπτει την ιστορική πραγματικότητα κι αποκαλύπτει την άλλη πραγματικότητα της πιο πειστικής φαντασίας, της γεννημένης απ’ τους καθημερινούς εφιάλτες της ασυνεννοησίας, της καταπίεσης, της υποχρεωτικής συγκατάβασης…»

Μόνη από το 1978, η Καίτη Δρόσου έχει να το λέει: «Εμείς γίναμε αριστεροί μέσα από τα βιβλία. Και για τις ιδέες μας αρνηθήκαμε οικογένειες και καριέρες, δεν προβάλαμε αιτήματα προσωπικά. Και ποιος δεν ήταν μαζί μας! Από τον Στάινμπεκ ώς τον Αϊνστάιν, συνοδοιπόροι όλοι! Ακόμα προσπαθώ να καταλάβω γιατί μια ομάδα φέρθηκε έτσι και μας κατηγόρησε ότι κάναμε κακό στην εργατική τάξη…»

Με τι μάτια τώρα πια

Βιάστηκες μητέρα να πεθάνεις.

Δεν λέω, είχες αρρωστήσει από φασισμό

κι ήταν λίγο το ψωμί έλειπα κι εγώ στην εξορία

ήτανε λίγος ο ύπνος κι ατέλειωτες οι νύχτες

μα πάλι ποιος ο λόγος να απελπιστείς προτού να κλείσεις

τα εξηντατέσσερα

μπορούσες να ‘σφιγγες τα δόντια

έστω κι αυτά τα ψεύτικα τα χρυσά σου δόντια

μπορούσες ν’ αρπαζόσουνα από ‘να φύλλο πράσινο

απ’ τα γυμνά κλαδιά

απ’ τον κορμό

μα ναι το ξέρω

γλιστράν τα χέρια κι ο κορμός του χρόνου δεν έχει φλούδα

να πιαστείς

όμως εσύ να τα ‘μπηγες τα νύχια

και να τραβούσες έτσι πεντέξι-δέκα χρόνια

σαν τους μισοπνιγμένους που τους τραβάει ο χείμαρρος

κολλημένους στο δοκάρι του γκρεμισμένου τους σπιτιού.

Τι βαραίνουν δέκα χρόνια για να με ξαναδείς

να ξαναδείς ειρηνικότερες ημέρες και να πας

στο παιδικό σου σπίτι με τον φράχτη πνιγμένο ν στα λουλούδια

να ζήσεις μες στη δίκαιη γαλήνη

ακούγοντας τον πόλεμο

σαν τον απόμακρο αχό του καταρράχτη

να ‘χεις μια στέγη σίγουρη σαν άστρο

να χωράει το σπίτι μας την καρδιά των ανθρώπων

κι από τη μέσα κάμαρα-

όμως εσύ μητέρα βιάστηκες πολύ

και τώρα με τι χέρια να ‘ρθεις και να μ’ αγγίξεις μέσ’

από τη σίτα*

με τι πόδια να ζυγώσεις εδώ που ‘χω τριγύρω μου τις πέ-

τρες σιγουρεμένες σαν ντουβάρια φυλακής

με τι μάτια τώρα πια να δεις πως μέσα δω χωράει

όλη η καρδιά του αυριανού μας κόσμου

τσαλαπατημένη

κι από τον δίπλα θάλαμο ποτίζει η θλίψη

σαν υγρασία σάπιου χόρτου.

[Το ποίημα περιέχεται στη συλλογή Ευθύτης οδών (1959).]

Αντρέας Φραγκιάς

Η Μαρτυρια του Αντρεα Φραγκια για τον Αλεξανδρου:

“Για όσους τον γνώρισαν, μαζί με το έργο, παραμένει η ανθρώπινη παρουσία που είχε μια εντελώς ιδιαίτερη μοναδικότητα ως ατομικός χαρακτήρας και ως ακραία αντιπροσωπευτική περίπτωση μιας ολόκληρης γενιάς και μιας κατάστασης που έμεινε εντελώς ξεχωριστή. Η μοναδικότητα εκτός από τα άλλα συνίσταται και στην απόλυτη ταύτιση του ανθρώπου με το έργο του, γιατί όταν γίνεται λόγος για το χαρακτήρα του, γίνεται αναπόφευκτη σαν η καλύτερη δυνατή σκιαγράφηση η παραπομπή σε δικά του κείμενα. Και αντίστροφα, τα κείμενα αυτά είναι στοιχεία της βιογραφίας και της ψυχογραφίας του. Η ταύτιση υπάρχει πλήρης, χωρίς ρωγμές. Η προσωπικότητα αυτή διαμορφώθηκε πολύ νωρίς κι έφτασε σε βαθμό απολυτότητας και συνέπειας. Η αυστηρότερη συνέπεια εκδηλώνεται προς τον εαυτό του. Εσωτερική ζωή, πνευματική λειτουργία, συμπεριφορά και ύφος γραφής γίνονται ένα, τόσο συμπαγές που είναι αδύνατο να ξεχωριστεί το ένα από το άλλο. Ένας ορθολογισμός μαθηματικού τύπου που συχνά μπορούσε να φτάσει στην αυστηρή διατύπωση θεωρήματος, μια ευθύγραμμη και σχεδόν επίπεδη συμπεριφορά χωρίς οξύτητες, μια καλή, συχνά αγαθή, προαίρεση και μια έμφυτη ουσιαστική ευγένεια. Ο καθημερινός φανατισμός του ήταν ότι δε θύμωνε ποτέ. Του ήταν άγνωστος ο υψηλός τόνος, η ρητορία, το εντυπωσιακό, ή οποιαδήποτε επίδειξη. Κάτω από αυτή τη φαινομενική απάθεια, που έφτανε συχνά να φαίνεται αδιαφορία, λειτουργούσε αδιάκοπα με υψηλή ευαισθησία, ζωηρό ενδιαφέρον, πνευματική εγρήγορση, ένας παλλόμενος ψυχισμός. Ο άνθρωπος αυτός που φαινόταν μοναχικός και αποσυρμένος διψούσε για ανθρώπινη επαφή, για ειλικρινείς και χωρίς συμβατικότητες εγκάρδιες σχέσεις, αναζητούσε την πνευματική ακεραιότητα και το βαθύτερο ουσιαστικό ανθρωπισμό.”