An illusion, whenever destroyed, gives rise to an insult. This is why pessimism, exterminator of illusions par excellence, was and always will be insulted. A normal person cannot face it without revolt, without feeling assaulted and unjustly despoiled. And he cannot help taxing it not as an unpleasant, but as a criminal. If it cannot be refuted with logic, let it be with violence! Every pessimist has to be aware of the destructive effect of his words and of the reaction that, to a greater or lesser extent, he will naturally provoke. And then he must measure how strong is his need to express himself in the face of the reprisals he will suffer. Rationally, he will probably conclude that the former is unnecessary; but he will be unhappy if he feels obliged to pay in this life the debt he has contracted with the enemies of the multitudes.
Concessions to the Practical World
It is irritating, but perhaps simultaneously necessary, to make concessions to the practical world in literary creation. It is natural that there is an urge in the intellectual to isolate himself in abstractions as pleasurable as the intrusions of everyday banality into his work are unpleasant. However, these seeming stains constitute a necessary link with the reality that allows literature to play its aggrandizing role. To isolate oneself on the intellectual plane is to blend in with the philosophers whose idle works have never served as advice to anyone.
It Is Very Difficult to Judge the Inconsequential Artist
It is very difficult to judge the inconsequential artist, who has the now as his only reality and adopts a financially irresponsible stance. Whether one admits it or not, financial prudence is a bet. Frugality, thrift, slowly building a small patrimony is to bet that there will be a future and that, in it, it will be possible to dedicate oneself entirely to art, even if not a penny is extracted from it. The truth is that, under no circumstances, the artist can allow himself to waste the now, and must always work on the best ideas he has, even if for a short time, far from the ideal; because, just as the future is a possibility, there is also the possibility that he will never enjoy such “ideal” conditions.
It Seems Almost a Crime…
A century later, it seems almost a crime the insistent recommendations of the lady Maria Madalena to her irresponsible son, asking him to find a job and devote the bulk of his days to working for his own sustenance. There is the very prudent common sense in perspective! And we are left wondering what would become of Fernando Pessoa if he yielded to his mother’s prudence and acted like a normal person. It is true, it is true: Pessoa sank because of extraordinary stupidity; and he had to pay for it. But how? How to force such a man to waste himself in trivialities? Such a man always asserts himself the moment he contradicts that which is convenient for him, the moment he completely distances himself from that which is expected of him. It is preferable to live as a deadbeat, or rather, it is preferable to die than to destroy his genius by conforming to normality.