Hues of Vanity

What is vanity? Or rather: how does it manifest itself? The immediate impression of vanity in modern times refers to the refinement in dressing, in behaving. Is that reprehensible? I do not think so. The effects of the care in dressing, as well as those of adorning one’s own house, or cultivating a beautiful garden, are positive. The human being respects what is beautiful, he is inspired, he wants to be beautiful as well: beauty, therefore, ramifies. Therefore, I see vanity, in this nuance, as positive. However, there is in this quality a destructive manifestation associated with immodesty, pride, presumption. There is in modern man’s psyche a terrible impulse towards the affirmation of his value. A veiled will, although wild, which manifests itself in the attachment to one’s own ideas, in the need to gain respect, agreement, and whose substance is summed up in immaturity. Someone who takes himself seriously lacks a conscience. How can one look sincerely in the mirror and not laugh?…

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The War Against Falsehood

The awakening of my consciousness was due to the perception of falsehood in the world. Awakening, the ghost decided to engage in combat. Oh, useless war, that so troubled me!… To condemn falsehood is to see oneself quickly contaminated with disgust for people, is to gradually move away from everyone, is to become a misanthrope. And, always in silence, I have turned my mind into a great court. Disgusted with my own essence, averse to sympathy, I could not experience a different end… There is a dose of falsehood without which the world does not exist. Relationships, if not stupid and superficial, need dissimulation. And interest will always be the main driver of human actions. It is accepting, knowing how to deal with, or finding, in a short time, the existence unbearable.

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Don Quijote de la Mancha, by Miguel de Cervantes

I am barely starting these lines and I know I will be short of words… Don Quijote de la Mancha, classic of the classics, one of the greatest works of all universal literature, outstanding in all respects. From all that I have read, two works have aroused in me something that I am incapable of describing, a feeling without a name, the impression of any kind of magic operating, as if they had been written by something different from a human being; they are Commedia, by Dante, and Don Quijote de la Mancha. But why? Here is the fascinating… El ingenioso hidalgo has been the object of obsession of countless artists, has inspired many, many works, and I cannot imagine anyone who, knowing his history, remain untouched. Don Quijote de la Mancha awakens in the reader infinite compassion, a relationship of real affection for the duo Don Quijote and Sancho Panza. Let us try to understand the magic… Cervantes, at first, builds a union between opposite personalities: the caballero andante Don Quijote is, physically and psychologically, the opposite of his squire Sancho. The first inhabits the universe of dreams, submits reality to the imaginary, interprets existence almost in delirium. The second personifies pragmatism. The effect of this junction of contrasts is an immense and growing harmony during the work since Sancho develops in a way to gradually share the judgments of his master. Thus, Cervantes builds a relationship of friendship that perhaps has no match in universal literature. Sancho’s fidelity is moving: when he speaks, there is always a veiled attempt of conciliation and, above all, humility. Don Quijote, on the other hand, cannot stop showing us the tenderness behind his belligerent profile. The narrative advances revealing an intense conflict between reality and imagination and el caballero, an incurable megalomaniac, who from the beginning shows himself incapable of perceiving his own mediocrity, gradually succumbs to his imagination, losing consciousness. Reality imposes itself and evidences the absurdity of everything Don Quijote dreamed of. But it leaves open the question: did Don Quijote really not live his dreams? Is it really the practical reality the queen of existence? And, faced with a flawed character, essentially fragile, whose actions always lead to ridicule, but who still believes, we cannot but associate him moved by something that escapes to our understanding. Don Quijote de la Mancha is a work that gives life to the magical and evokes the divine. And the reader does not close the book being the same person: the sweetness that permeates the narrative impregnates and softens any character. Existence, then, slows down, and we learn—even if we cannot explain it—that life is more beautiful when not taken so seriously.

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Philosophy in Literature and Literature in Philosophy

My profile as a reader is very funny: in literature, I am easily irritated by half a page of small talk; in philosophy, although I accept texts based exclusively on logic and precision, texts, in short, appearing academic or scientific, I am impressed or, rather, I seek the power of expression in philosophers, and I like the use of images and metaphors to represent ideas. I mean: I like philosophy in literature and literature in philosophy. Curious…

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