Tag: philosophy

It is a very amusing irony the fruitful tendency of the “new sciences” to turn to the past in search of foundations and answers. We see, for example, psychology, which has become another after Jung, much more complex, interesting and effective, thanks to the deep investigations that Jung made in various terrains of various ancient cultures. And this phenomenon is not limited to the “new sciences,” being present in literature, philosophy and wherever we turn our lenses: the answers that man needs seem to be present in the most primitive traces of his existence, the expansion of his knowledge being limited to giving new forms to conclusions—not to say truths—already perceived long ago.

It is painful to imagine Freud gradually trapping himself in a cell from which, until the end of his life, he thought it impossible to free himself. Freud’s drama is that he did not seem to start from error, but from a limited vision that deepened and did not expand. He seems to have lacked a master, or to have had a repetitive, poor and insufficient experience. It is very difficult not to feel antipathy pulsating when analyzing Freud’s work as a whole: it takes serenity to remember that this work also contains a legitimate individual tragedy.

There is no denying some natural effects of the notorious tower. The reasons that lead man to install himself in it vary from experience to reasoning; but, without a doubt, the true tower only shelters voluntary residents. Once installed, man changes with time, which seems, above all, to harden him. Isolated from agitation, the spirit cools down, the body stabilizes, and the mind seems to compensate it with doubled activity. Soon, an abyss opens up between such a posture and the so-called normality, which is analyzed in growing repulsion. This is why an uncontrollable intolerance grows in the spirit, a violent aversion to that which reasoning repeatedly condemns in endless hours of meditation: the world is seen in its most perverse face. It is true, then, that the tower can greatly stimulate bitterness—and it often does. In this way, a hardness of unusual character is materialized; a hardness that inevitably ends up committing an injustice at one time or another. Here something very curious happens: when the recluse is faced with the injustice committed, or rather, when he is faced with a nature that contradicts his judgments, there is a shock so violent that it seems to be the work of a superior entity. Then the remains of a dead humanity resurface, and in a mixture of amazement and remorse, the inhabitant of the tower seems to soften.

Even though one may live thoughtfully, and try to plan one’s actions so that it never comes out unthinkingly, and even though there may be great merit in doing so, there are moments when all thought and planning is supplanted by an impulse that arises as a necessity. And to note that this often proves to be fruitful! Sometimes, it is precisely in this impulse that an entire trajectory is defined, and from it the best fruits are derived. The mind, in this logic that borders on the irrational, seems to suggest that a long and silent work preceded its meticulously calculated burst. And then, let it burst…