Morally, man is measured less by his affinities than by his repulsions. We know him by looking at what he rejects or, in other words, what is contrary to his character. His friends tell less about him than his adversaries, what he does less than what he peremptorily refuses to do. Moral sympathizes with caution and rejects with convulsing nerves.
Building a Fragmentary Work
The thinker gains a lot by choosing, as Nietzsche and Cioran did, to build a fragmentary work. Letting go of the presumptuous and counterproductive delirium of attainable unity, i.e., of supposedly attainable perfection, the thinker can concentrate on conferring precision and potency to small fragments. Moreover, the superiority of a collection of aphorisms over an essay is indisputable: the latter hardly ever justifies rereading; the former’s innate multiplicity makes complete assimilation impossible all at once. Furthermore: building in fragments makes it possible to precisely settle the disparate and complicated mental movements, while developing and deepening a single reasoning certainly imposes a limit—that is, it forces the mind to dismiss a large part of its manifestations.
Thomas Carlyle’s Lectures
My rebellious fingers are itching after contact with Thomas Carlyle’s lectures. They want to answer him, they want to because they want to—but they will not. I regret to tell the slaves to control and content themselves with the brief irony they have already been allowed. Thomas Carlyle, indeed, is a remarkable and instructive intelligence; the interpretation of his “heroes” has much to add. I do not know why, analyzing him brings me Chesterton to mind: perhaps because both deserve, despite their patent incompatibility with me, my sincere handshake.
Nelson Rodrigues’ Way of Constructing Prose
Nelson Rodrigues’ way of constructing prose is curious. Whether in novels, short stories or even chronicles, it is clear his obsession with framing the text within a predefined aesthetic—he acts in prose as poets do in verse. The flow of his narratives almost always follows a protocol, and the result is a pronounced and unmistakable style. There was a time when I thought standardization was essential to great style. Today I see it a little differently. I admire regular constructions, but I believe I prefer variety: speed one day; the next slowness, a lingering cadence, commas instead of periods. Styles, formats, measures, not static dynamism or terminating sluggishness. What is difficult, however, is to identify masters in multiple styles, capable of satisfying, in a single work, the cravings of who is accustomed to finding comfort by shifting of shelves.