Although the first few years of an intellectual life seem by far the most fruitful, in which each one of them seems to bring about a complete transformation in knowledge, after a certain time, although progress seems to lose momentum, the gain in direction is remarkable. In other words: at the beginning, when everything is new, we discover a lot, but knowledge expands simultaneously in many directions, and we can hardly see a direction, we can hardly see where the effort will lead. After a few years, we make far fewer mistakes, and although the difficulties increase, we move forward more consciously towards where we want to be.
Category: Notes
It Is Well Known That, From Birth to Adulthood….
It is well known that, from birth to adulthood, we are all subjected to a succession of phases, or problems, which can be schematized, from awareness of the environment and individuality, to more complex problems such as the rationalization of emotions or social integration. We all experience it, although perhaps at different ages and certainly in different circumstances. In this, we realize that a hierarchy of problems can also be established, from the most basic to the most complex, generally linked to age groups, so that in order to deal with problems higher up the hierarchy, it is necessary to have overcome, albeit temporarily, the previous problems. This progress involves a gradual change in the focus of interest, a natural and necessary change, required by maturing itself. It is inappropriate for an adult to still be fighting over self-affirmation, for example, as this is a characteristic problem of adolescence. Likewise, a real existential crisis is characteristic of a mature, well-formed adult. From all this, we can see the following, which is rarely observed by literary critics: if an artist, no matter how skillful, concentrates on more basic and universal problems, he will certainly reach a larger audience and be better understood; however, his work simply will not be able to sustain the interest of someone who is aware of the relevance of such problems and their position in the general hierarchy, someone for whom such problems have long since been overcome, and whose interest therefore soars to much higher altitudes. That is why there is no escaping it: to be truly great, an artist cannot limit himself to serving the general public.
Publicity, Like Polemics, Is Dispensable…
Publicity, like polemics, is dispensable in literature and requires a predisposition. From the moment one enters this game, one has to have the talent not to stray and not become corrupted. To imagine a Kafka, for example, dealing with such protocols is impossible. When he thought of his writings in the hands of the general public, Kafka thought it would be more convenient to burn them, and this shows that if publicity were forced upon him, he would never have written what he wrote. It is really a matter of vocation to remain serious and sincere in front of any audience.
Sometimes It Seems That This Critical Need…
Sometimes it seems that this critical need for agglutination, which aims to present a panoramic historical view of the paths taken by literature, does more harm than good to understanding the authors. In other words: if the agglutination works for lesser authors, it seems to misrepresent the great ones, and we get the impression that it would be much better, instead of fitting them into a collective, to simply compare their lives and works, as is done with notorious success in some biographies. What is striking is that criticism sometimes completely distorts the individual in order to explain the whole.