'The rule of specialists and experts has several drawbacks. They tend to grow rather crazy and attach a quasi-religious importance to their specialized conclusions'.
---K. Clark, Moments of Vision.
From Lesley Chamberlain:
He [Herzen] despised the dullness of carefully ordered, secure lives..."no-one rejects the settled life"...the stylish, non-specialized amateur, vs the provincial with his narrow certainties..."character nurtured itself in the stream of the world"..a freedom from absorption in the theoretical, abstract world of the mind, from set-thinking, nature, governments...
The ability to oppose mechanism: in life, in thought.
"That I am will always be for me higher than I know"
strange how the summer term always seems to end in A-12. the graduating class, on their way. less concern, now, with what they'll end up doing. but it's always fascinating to enter into a reverie whereby you imagine each one in ten years time. Of course, in that imaginary world you are still the same age, still invisible, looking at them as you do now-the way one can watch a fire for ever- as they scribble down their answers to some obtuse questions....
this scene is repeated, as if life could go on for ever. is it possible to imagine discontinuity? or would one prefer to heap up more years of a meaningless life rather than 'think' about the inevitable? if thought emerges from within life then cannot life assert itself once again?
there are no "types", just individuals with their quirky traits, tell-tale features. a shoulder blade here, a twinkle in an eye there, a slouching gait, lazy shuffling steps, the odd inquisitive mind (but rare).
what will be remembered? very little, you guess. which is probably always the way, and perhaps not such a bad thing after all. many have and come and gone before; many will do so in the future. from a distance chance is fate. what does it hold in store? not that you really care. that would be ridiculous. but it's always one of those eerie moments that opens onto the utterly mysterious.
whatever it was, it doesn't arrive.
---The Apartments.
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3 comments:
how strange that you write this now - i've just got a mail from somebody who was in my class in elementary and secondary school, and he says: for about 20 years now i have always wondered what you've become. i felt the entire heaviness of time crushing on my shoulders, such a strange feeling - and how can one 'tell' a life?
sounds like quite a melodramatic chap!:-)
I mean, after 20 years he can't say: hello, Roxana. how are you? what have you been up to?
instead:
"time crushing on my shoulders"?
Is he an oriental by any chance? :-)
so, what did you tell him? I'm intrigued.
If I was in your position I would have said something like: "I spent 7 years in jail after stabbing Z from our elementary class..you remember that bitch, don't you? but my psychiatrist says I'm not so dangerous now (at least if not provoked). Anyway, let's meet up"
haha, sorry, my mistake, but i would have thought my melodrama was easy enough not to be mistaken :-P
those were my own thoughts: "i felt the entire heaviness of time crushing on my shoulders, such a strange feeling - and how can one 'tell' a life?" :-)))
"only the first sentence was his:
for about 20 years now i have always wondered what you've become."
and no, of course i am not telling you what i answered :-P
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