There is no denying some natural effects of the notorious tower. The reasons that lead man to install himself in it vary from experience to reasoning; but, without a doubt, the true tower only shelters voluntary residents. Once installed, man changes with time, which seems, above all, to harden him. Isolated from agitation, the spirit cools down, the body stabilizes, and the mind seems to compensate it with doubled activity. Soon, an abyss opens up between such a posture and the so-called normality, which is analyzed in growing repulsion. This is why an uncontrollable intolerance grows in the spirit, a violent aversion to that which reasoning repeatedly condemns in endless hours of meditation: the world is seen in its most perverse face. It is true, then, that the tower can greatly stimulate bitterness—and it often does. In this way, a hardness of unusual character is materialized; a hardness that inevitably ends up committing an injustice at one time or another. Here something very curious happens: when the recluse is faced with the injustice committed, or rather, when he is faced with a nature that contradicts his judgments, there is a shock so violent that it seems to be the work of a superior entity. Then the remains of a dead humanity resurface, and in a mixture of amazement and remorse, the inhabitant of the tower seems to soften.
Category: Notes
Language Offers Everyone Identical Possibilities
Language offers everyone identical possibilities. It is nothing more than a huge set of signs to be used as a vehicle for the expression of ideas, facts, feelings. In a work of art, therefore, the use of language, the style, will be more authentic the more it individualizes the expression of what it intends to express, that is, the more the uniqueness of the artist is exposed through the universal set of signs. Well then. It seems that based on this—correct—reasoning, everything has been legitimized in letters and, due to another reasoning that often accompanies it—that, in art, the important thing is to be “original”—true aberrations have been considered marvelous. Faced with such works, one gets the feeling that there is something wrong, that something so simplistic cannot be good, just because it is different. And then it seems fair to note that true mastery, in art, makes the complex appear simple—and not the other way around…
If We Have Form as a Means…
If we have form as a means,—and not as an end,—and technique as the expression of an individuality, we must admit a certain relativism regarding the aesthetic quality of a work. Better said: although many have tried to do so, it is not possible to establish, in art, rigid and universally applicable criteria to judge a work. Especially when it comes to technique, it is not rare to see first-rate artists seem to cultivate it in an antagonistic way, making it obvious, therefore, that this “how” is valid as it enhances an individuality which, yes, is a reasonable measure of the greatness of a work.
We Read a Handful of Coeval Poems…
We read a handful of coeval poems and we realize: punctuation is broken, capital letters are dispensed with, verses are often short, and the effect seems to depend on the aesthetics and on solitary words as units of meaning. The truth is that interesting effects are drawn from such techniques, already widely explored… These half irrational, half exotic and apparently sloppy constructions suggest a kind of ecstasy; but it seems that the most drastic change, as far as technique is concerned, is that the poems have become visual pieces. Although dependent on words, they have sound as secondary, and are meant to be read, or rather visualized—never recited. It is true: we find one or another alliteration, one or another parallelism; but these poems were not intended to be rhythmic constructions. We have to admit: even if sometimes they lack technique, in many of them we find genius—which is undoubtedly superior…