It is a very amusing irony the fruitful tendency of the “new sciences” to turn to the past in search of foundations and answers. We see, for example, psychology, which has become another after Jung, much more complex, interesting and effective, thanks to the deep investigations that Jung made in various terrains of various ancient cultures. And this phenomenon is not limited to the “new sciences,” being present in literature, philosophy and wherever we turn our lenses: the answers that man needs seem to be present in the most primitive traces of his existence, the expansion of his knowledge being limited to giving new forms to conclusions—not to say truths—already perceived long ago.
Category: Notes
Freud’s Cell
It is painful to imagine Freud gradually trapping himself in a cell from which, until the end of his life, he thought it impossible to free himself. Freud’s drama is that he did not seem to start from error, but from a limited vision that deepened and did not expand. He seems to have lacked a master, or to have had a repetitive, poor and insufficient experience. It is very difficult not to feel antipathy pulsating when analyzing Freud’s work as a whole: it takes serenity to remember that this work also contains a legitimate individual tragedy.
Teaching Patients How to Live
Hand in hand with marketing, the psychology practiced in consulting rooms has given to want to teach patients how to live. In other words, psychologists want to give philosophy lessons. Thus, psychology is being mixed with what marketing dictates, and a laughable worldview, without the slightest depth, is being configured as a parameter of mental sanity. Psychologists, instead of working on their own lack of culture and ignorance about life, have transformed the science of the mind into a mere product of well-being.
The Poem Seems to Lack a Support
As far as rhythm is concerned, the poem seems to lack a support, an expected tonicity in specific syllables, so that there is a sense of harmony and that the planned breaks can stand out. If the rhythmic pattern varies with each verse, there is no pattern and therefore no rhythmic base on which the verses rest. Unless one avowedly makes poetry by stripping it of musicality, the much-criticized regularity seems a necessary condition for poems that are meant to be good.