Tag: literature

The Bon-Vivant Artist

Says Burckhardt, in my English translation:

Indeed, without this degree of force of character, the man of the most brilliant “talent” is either a fool or a knave. All great masters have, first and foremost, learned, and never ceased to learn, and to learn requires very great resolution when a man has once reached heights of greatness and can create easily and brilliantly. Further, every later stage is achieved only by a terrible struggle with the fresh tasks they set themselves.

“Force of character”, “never ceased to learn”, “terrible struggle”… here is a sensible view of the state of mind that produces great works. It is really a joke this romanticized view of the bon-vivant artist, so widespread these days. According to it, the exercise of art is a pleasure, a diversion for idle moments. An artist of this sort is, if anything, mediocre. Faced with the posture of a serious artist, even the much-talked “search for beauty” seems outrageously futile. All this idealization of the artist and art does not seem to define very well the real motivation of the one who devotes a huge effort, who shapes his entire existence around his own occupation, never relaxing, never satisfied, contrary to what is convenient for him. Burckhardt, like a few, gives us a prudent vision of what true greatness represents.

Carpeaux e Burckhardt

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 Drama of D. Pedro II Is the Drama of a Camões

D. Pedro II, this man whose life contains a moving tragedy, a tragedy that became even more accentuated after his death, was not capable of putting it in a fair measure in the few verses he composed. They are weak verses, almost innocuous for someone who does not know his biography. But someone who knows it, and imagines the state of atrocious sadness in which they were written, the immeasurable grief of the man whose virtue was paid for with the most revolting injustice on the eve of his death, this person will forgive the aesthetic defects and will sincerely sympathize with the author’s misery. But here lie two moral problems that are hard to admit: the first, that art is indifferent to the sincerity of the author—in art, the most skillful may surpass the most sincere, even if his art amounts to a complete falsification of himself;—the second, that the moral elevation contained in the work matters little, as does the character of what it evokes. It is regrettable… The drama of D, Pedro II is the drama of a Camões, but of a Camões wronged in life and not rewarded by history, that cursed insensitive in which were deposited the last hopes of the noble soul corroded by grief. Would it be different if the verses were better? How useless to answer it…

The Independence at Stake

I think of these organized literary movements, these attempts to innovate conjointly, these collusions that resulted in magazines and the like, these personal relationships founded on a supposed artistic affinity… I cannot help but conclude that the greatest blessing that can befall an artist is to never meet a single person inclined toward his art. It is the independence that is at stake; full, inviolable independence. It is to create as if no one could ever discover creation, it is to open oneself without embarrassment, without the possibility of others conjecturing unpleasant correlations, it is to never have to hear a friendly compliment and then have to reciprocate it. God, how ungrateful I have always been! Thank you, thank you very much!