I interchange Carpeaux and Burckhardt, and it is a real pleasure to be silent so that these intelligences may speak out. Carpeaux, it is impressive, always seems ready to introduce us to a new author, to take us physically through time and space, giving us his inexhaustible culture, painting cities, filling us with distant atmospheres, all this with a style that seems to blend the talent of an artist and the experience of a hundred lifetimes. Burckhardt, on the other hand, seems from the top of a tower, protected from the upheavals of his time and of all times, observing them all, analyzing them with the impartiality of a scientist and the inclinations of a dilettante. His prophecies are impressive. If unintentional, as Carpeaux himself suggests, they show a precise and unique understanding of the evolutionary processes of the culture and time in which he was inserted. It is truly a pleasure!
The “Popularization” of Science
Burckhardt asks, in his Reflections on History, what would result from the unexpected “popularization” of science that took place in the 19th century. Here we are… The science that Burckhardt was referring to is no longer the same. It was degraded from the moment it let itself be stripped of its noble purpose and allowed to be applied to vile interests. It has been distorted into a kind of authority that goes against the humility characteristic of truly scientific research, profaned as a political instrument, servile to the dictatorship of money, and can no longer be looked upon with the admiration of other days. The scientific arena itself, even if we insulate it from external influences, is corroded by conflicts of interest comparable to those in politics. For that matter, what has not become corrupted after the “popular” ascension? Even Burckhardt, with his noble and radical abhorrence of the money-making culture and the budding plutocracy, would be amazed to see how dangerous it has become today to ignore the social and economic impacts of possible scientific research. The summary: nothing resists “popularization”.
There Should Be a Name for the Feeling of Affection….
There should be a name for the feeling of affection towards one’s own land that differentiates it from this despicable patriotism that does nothing but castrates the mind from equanimous judgment. The dictionary itself would do well to point out xenophobia as a possible synonym for patriotism, in view of the use that has been made of this unfortunate word. What a disappointment! To open history books and come across infamous adulators of tyranny and power, to find unacceptable justifications for every kind of crime, to come across the attachment to stupidity, the unswerving refusal to admit any virtue that does not flatter the “patriotic” pride… It is worth subscribing to what Cioran said: “Un homme qui se respecte n’a pas de patrie.”
A Love Disappointment Affects, More Often Than Not…
A love disappointment affects, more often than not, a superficial and less noble layer of the individual. It hurts, but it is the physical pain of the wounded animal. Generally, it does not shake the concept of love in the disappointed soul: it is possible to find someone else. Disappointment, however, when it comes from a friend to whom friendship in the only sense in which this word should be used, which elevates the souls involved and ennobles the race, is like a stab wound of very harsh philosophical and moral consequences. Unlike the common love betrayal, it is not pride that is wounded, but the higher part of nature that asked for nothing and received meanness in exchange for generosity. It is something that fills the soul with grief. It destroys the concept one has of others; it weakens the ability to trust; it undermines, in advance, the disposition for future relationships… Such nonsense! As if this word, just like the other, was not already corrupted…