The problem with relationships is that, generally speaking, what one gains from them is little compared to what one must do to sustain them; that is to say, this is true of ordinary relationships, and when this is not the case, on the rare occasions when it is not, then one has found a relationship of true value. For such a relationship, which develops and endures naturally, without the parties having to pretend or temporarily feign being something they are not, the effort made is to nurture it, ensuring it does not fade due to distance or deteriorate through trivialization. Even so, there is a risk that it will become trapped by circumstances, subject to the dynamics of life, and thus run the risk of perishing. But a single relationship of this nature is enough to completely change one’s conception of life.
Category: Notes
Although the Work of Critics Is of Great Use…
Although the work of critics is of great use to the student—who must chart a course of study and find a way to select, without prior knowledge, the works that best suit him—it is undoubtedly better to approach a work without knowing what has been said about it, and to allow it to make its own impression through an intimate relationship between author and reader. Then, the criticism, which will be better understood, and perhaps stimulate an additional reading. It happens, however, that it is not always possible, nor convenient, to do so, since, first and foremost, one must decide what to read. So one must deal with the unpleasant sensation of, while reading, having to push aside from one’s mind the already known judgments that will persistently try to intrude.
These Days When You Wake Up…
These days when you wake up, unexpectedly, with a mad urge to understand everything about yourself… And then you rummage through files, books, memories, and notes; desperately search for new sources, forcing flashes of insight into what you did not perceive before. During the process, those forgotten certainties resurface in your mind, often as if they were new, though they have already been the subject of reflection. These are good days… But the knowledge one has about oneself, though it may connect and give meaning to the past, though it may guide the future, reaffirm vows, and recall decisions, can do nothing against this gigantic unknown, which leaves one’s entire existence open-ended, to be properly understood only when one no longer exists.
It Really Is Something Indescribable…
Ah, memories!… It really is something indescribable to play at reliving them, mentally experiencing what one was unable to live through. Saying what one did not have the courage to say, prolonging a moment that chance interrupted… And then reflecting on what might have happened. It is true: most of the time, nothing extraordinary, and the exercise is nothing more than an imaginative game. One derives some pleasure from it; but, in the end, one concludes that what was meant to happen did happen.