Arquivo de Notes | Page 258 of 264

Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor Frankl

I hate the widespread idea that the man is just a dog. I see it all the time: whether it is the guy who thinks hunger is man’s main problem or psychology that ties to instincts and never goes beyond instincts. Well, a genius is born — and we need geniuses to tell us the obvious… — and says the following: there is in the human being a spiritual dimension that defines and transcends it. And the genius, named Viktor Frankl, had to prove in the flesh the validity of the theory itself, enduring the terrible atrocities of various Nazi concentration camps and maintaining sanity. I mean, the animal pulsates on us, but there’s something nobler. Below is an excerpt from the book:

A human being is not one thing among others; things determine each other, but man is ultimately self-determining. What he becomes — within the limits of endowment and environment — he has made out of himself. In the concentration camps, for example, in this living laboratory and on this testing ground, we watched and witnessed some of our comrades behave like swine while others behaved like saints. Man has both potentialities within himself; which one is actualized depends on decisions but not on conditions.

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Steppenwolf, by Hermann Hesse

I closed this brilliant work disgusted by the outcome of the plot. I thought, “How will this book resonate in me in the future?” I reflected on the reading: from the beginning, I was delighted with the sharpness and precision of the psychological descriptions of the misanthrope, self-destructive and depressing Harry Haller, who seemed to me as a brother. The narrative develops instigating, seeing Harry sprout, through a woman — Hermine, — his human side, then facing a fierce psychological battle because of his ambivalent personality. Psychological tension is constant, and Harry’s reflections are noteworthy. Comes the book summit, where Harry looks in delirium. I felt, shortly before, the physical presence of Goethe and Mozart, evoked by the author. I am not moved at all with what might be called the climax of the plot — or, if you prefer, with what immediately happens after the climax. A few pages later, I close the book: “What then? What will I remember in the future?” It has been some months: I can barely remember the outcome; the rest of the book, however, remains alive in me.

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Nature…

I am not a nature enthusiast. (Stones!) I know that for many — all? — the word nature inspires a silent, pure landscape like a fresh fountain lying down in the quiet rustle of trees under the gentle movement of the waters. Not to me. When I think of nature, my mind associates — and does not ask me for permission! — first, to the image of a closed forest; then, to the sensation of my lungs being inflated with fresh air and, abruptly, I hear an unbearable buzz of mosquitoes, which turns into the aggressive hiss of a rattlesnake. Scared, I feel a shiver. Yes, yes: my house is pollution and ash.

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The Wisdom of the Ecclesiastes

I could say a lot of things about the Ecclesiastes; today, I say this: by gathering the good humor to what this biblical book teaches, one finds lightness in life, or, in other words, maturity is reached.

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