When a draft is lost, but what was sketched persists in the memory, something interesting happens. We realize that it is possible to restore the draft by going back through the same stages of reasoning that led to it; but it is not possible to restore it word for word, exactly as it was. It can be seen, then, that something is lost in the process. It follows that we can say the same thing day after day, renewing it by the way we say it; however, the uniqueness of the moment in which it was said remains ingrained in it and, finally, the lost draft is really the moment that is gone…
Category: Notes
The Beginner Praises Easily
The beginner praises easily and hardly criticizes. This is because praise is more in line with his admiration of something that, if he understands it, he feels is still unattainable for him; criticism, on the other hand, requires knowledge and security that he doesn’t have. With the experienced, the opposite is true: criticism is natural, almost automatic, and praise requires the rare virtue of recognizing in the other person, despite his own knowledge, an ability that he may not have. The beginner therefore grows by being able to criticize, while the experienced does so by learning to praise: both, in short, by going against what is easiest for them.
True Artists and True Philosophers…
True artists and true philosophers have in common that their work is the result of reflection on experience. From this, in both, springs the need for expression which, in each, is realized differently. In other words: it is through reflection that they discover what to say, and afterwards that they experience the sensation of having to say it. The rest is how to do it – the least important thing. But this initial impulse that unites them attests to the truth of what they do and sets them apart from all those who, for the most diverse reasons, perpetuate falsification.
Twentieth-Century Literature Discovered…
Twentieth-century literature discovered that, in order to win over the common man, it is infinitely easier to descend to his level rather than elevate him. It is a remarkable discovery. When one says the greatest conceivable banality in the most prosaic way imaginable, something impressive, almost magical, happens and brings the common man to his knees. Finally, with his eyes sparkling, he experiences the sensation of understanding what he is reading! It is an infallible formula, and to it is added the pleasure of curiosity in seeing the spectacle of artists who, as if inside a sanctuary, behave as if they were at a fair. It is undoubtedly a kind of literature that can exert an unparalleled fascination on the ordinary man.