Arquivo de Notes | Page 253 of 277

The Unbearable “I”

I hope, if not in these notes, I will never speak that unbearable word — “I” — in the first person. I find it funny how, still here and just now, I combine the verbs in the first person repetitively, when none other than myself have categorical disgust for this modern obsession with one’s own being and consider myself the most insignificant singularity of the whole universe. However, here are the justifications and the confession: (1) the “I”, in these notes, will never be but a low-lying expressive appeal, when the object of these lines is entirely another — confessing, I hope to expel the intrusive word; — (2) if one day, and I beg it not to happen, but if one day the “I” take the opposite path and start to occupy the center of these notes, then I will have exhausted myself as an artist and as an explorer of issues that go beyond my petty reality. Let’s see what will happen…

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A Narrator Should Not Provide Interpretations of His Own Work

In pages of Umberto Eco, I come across this problem so common and insistent, which has afflicted so much since Nelson Rodrigues to Andrei Tarkovsky, Umberto Eco himself and so many others, which is the exigence of explanations about the work itself. Umberto Eco summarizes, in my direct translation:

A narrator should not provide interpretations of his own work, otherwise he would not have written a novel, which is a machine that generates interpretations.

I believe “novel” applies to any artistic work. Interpreting is not the responsibility of the author, never has been and never will be. Demanding any justification from the artist is no less than trying to destroy his work.

The situation is funny because it is precisely the interpretation that everyone, from the reader to the critic, seems to demand from the author.

Tarkovsky, with his nonlinear montage and scenes of highly subjective and poetic appeal, reveals himself in Sculpting in Time targeted by numerous indignant and offensive letters from spectators simply demanding explanations.

Nelson Rodrigues, in turn, spent his life having to justify why others censored his works when he obviously had nothing to do with the interpretations of his scenes.

The list extends to infinity: playwrights, novelists, filmmakers… many and many targets of the same harmful notion that the author owes explanations to the public.

It is sad to know dissolved the meaning of art, to know that the public is completely unaware of the essence of artistic work and judges the artist as a pamphleteer, someone who wishes to prove his opinion or raise some agreement.

However, there is a positive and perhaps very, very positive side. Knowing his fate, the artist will know how to trace the ideal distance he must take from the public, thus shielding himself and saving his work.

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The Passport to Glory

It is possible to conjecture a formula on how to achieve glory after death. I sum it up in two topics:

I — The more belligerent, aggressive, impetuous and agitated the person is in life, the better will be remembered by the inhabitants of his country, and consequently the greater the glory will be to him.

II — The more judicious, serene, conciliatory, and peaceful the person in life, the greater the chance that his memory will be quickly forgotten, and consequently the lower the glory will be to him.

Observations:

Acts of prudence almost never mark history. Rather, mark the acts of bravery or false bravery.

As for artists and intellectuals, serious study does not usually bear fruit, when it is infinitely easier to stick the name in the pages of history by committing a great transgression rather than the difficult labor of producing works of universal value.

Finally, I dare to develop a roadmap that we believe is the simplest way to achieve glory:

1st — Join any political party of any ideology.

2nd — Achieve the leadership of this party, submitting to all that is necessary for this (history hardly remembers the means by which a leadership position is attained).

3rd — Militate, militate in all environments, shed hatred for the tongue and fingers in order to get as many partisans as possible (buying them also works).

4th — Produce any sort of social rebellion, preferably involving armed conflict and, if possible, deaths (the more deaths, the better; the longer the rebellion sustains itself, also the better).

5th — Disseminate, in the meantime or shortly before, a pamphlet (and better camouflaged in artistic work) containing any sort of political and social ideas.

These steps, I believe, are more than enough to consecrate a memory forever, regardless of its effects, premises, or the character of whom will execute them.

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The Summit Is Natural Neighbor of the Abyss

There is a notable problem arising from the ascent and it basically boils down to this: the summit is natural neighbor of the abyss. I could formulate in other ways, saying that when we reach the top, movement is only possible down, or that the distance from peak to cliff is any slip… I am thinking now of Julien Sorel, but there are countless examples. Why exactly does the spotlight make us so vulnerable? Envy? By the desire that, by its nature, exposes us? I cannot help but notice the destructive potential of ascension, the trials it normally demands, and its deceptive, if not unfair, prize. Rationally, the conclusion is imposed: perhaps the wisest thing is to immediately stop climbing.

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