Luciano Duarte | Literature and philosophy

Wealth and Freedom

It has become fashionable to differentiate synonyms to adapt them to ideologies and sell any kind of advice. The examples are numerous: “loneliness” and “solitude”, “goal” and “aim” and many others. Recently, I came across a guy differentiating “rich” from “wealthy”. According to him, rich people are people with a lot of money, while wealthy people are people with a lot of freedom. The reasoning is this: true wealth is associated with freedom, with the availability of resources that allow the release from work, that open possibilities, that do not require high maintenance costs, that produce a highly positive cash flow. Naturally, the citizen then wanted to teach how to be wealthy. But let us stick to the idea: wealth and freedom, money and release. The guy is right in what he says. There is a false idea, widely spread all over the planet, that success is mostly tied to money, happiness to wealth, and value to success. I easily recognize a modern slave: someone constantly concerned, hostage to countless obligations, thirsty for security, and proud of what he can buy. Let’s say he is a millionaire. He is a millionaire, but he does not let go of the telephone, he cannot miss work, he cannot leave it and he commits himself to various obligations. He has got a big house, he changes cars often, he consumes in a very high standard. Would that be success, or would that be value? Money is only noble as a means to freedom, and skews when it leads to slavery. Accepting himself as a slave, unaware of his own condition, the millionaire is nothing more than a puppet of money, submissive to a piece of paper. In the meantime, I surrender: “value”, today, like all other words, seems to escape from my understanding…

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The Illusion of Poetic Freedom

The evolution of poetry over the centuries gives us a false illusion of freedom gained, it seems to us that, over the centuries, the poets have been gradually getting rid of the ties of the verses until reaching the free verse. In part, the poets proved themselves capable of breaking old conventions, introducing new expressive resources (the enjambement, for example) and expanding the aesthetic possibilities of poetry. But it is false to think that, sitting down to compose, the poet feels free as to form, even in free verse. That, of course, if he is a good poet. But why? Because even if he gives up the metrics, the rhymes, varies the stanzas and extrapolates the limits of the verse, the poet will be bound by the rhythm. If he wants to compose a good poem, he is not free to put the words where he wants. Rhythm, the balance between tonic and tense syllables, cadenced movement of sounds: the day the poem that ignores these principles is considered good, we will all be—from illiterate to philistines—great poets.

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The Problem of Originality

Interesting how the duty of originality haunts the average writer. I mean, before he can express himself with sincerity and strength, he has to be original. But originality, unless the writer deliberately uses a ready-made formula, plagiarizes and refuses to think independently, comes naturally. First, because the psychological interpretations of the facts, the relationship locked between the individual and the surrounding reality are variable and almost unique. Second, because biographies are absolutely individual, that is: each writer has unique experiences to be transmitted to his art. So unless he intends to be someone other than himself, any half dozen sincere lines will make the writer always look original.

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Violate the Rules

I have just accompanied, enchanted, a policeman driving on the opposite way, without his seat belt, and parking on the sidewalk. He parked and seemed to observe a tree on the other side of the street. Incredible! Awesome! And I could not contain the desire to replicate the action myself. I want to drive the opposite way, climb on the sidewalk and observe a tree, like checking if it is okay. Does the cop pay fines? I do not want to respect the laws! Hahaha!… I want to park, in front of a sign, in a forbidden place. And ignore the parking meter! Inspiration, idol this cop… And with this feeling, I begin today in the work of Henry David Thoreau. Tell me, master, what did you learn catechizing animals in the forest? I do not like wild animals that much, but who knows?… I want to isolate myself, not pay taxes, break all the rules. Can you teach me?

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