Sunday, 24 February 2013

Too Rich to Accept the Rags this Shopkeeper Sells?

Terrible, aren’t they?  Doubts. They can destroy even the best work.  Stellar stuff demolished by a single question.  A thousand pages defeated by a few words.  “Why” as deadly as an Assassin’s knife. The only things we think about if we think at all about the book we have just read - the questions we ask ourselves about it.  Doubts.  Such terrible things!   We shouldn’t have them, but we do.  So human!  Are they what separate us from the animals?   We are what we are because we doubt?  Civilisation founded upon our uncertainties.  Can this really be so?  What an odd place on which to build a home!  Doubts, it seems, can be such strange, such useful, such wonderful, things when we begin to really think about them.  Like rabbit holes in a grassy bank they should riddle the books we read…

I know I know, intoxicated with a new idea, I’ve forgotten someone important.  The author!  Can a hothouse plant, so fragile that it wilts under the mere whiff of an autumn wind, welcome such cold questioning?  Open the doors!  Break the glass!  Now’s the time to see...

Saturday, 9 February 2013

Saturday, 2 February 2013

An Interlude

From the company of thinkers. – In the midst of the ocean of becoming we awake on a little island no bigger than a boat, we adventurers and birds of passage, and look around us for a few moments: as sharply and as inquisitively as possible, for how soon may a wind not blow us away or a wave not sweep across the little island, so that nothing more is left of us!  But here, on this little space, we find other birds of passage and hear of others still who have been here before – and thus we live a precarious minute of knowing and divining, amid joyful beating of wings and chirping with one another, and in spirit we adventure out over the ocean, no less proud than the ocean itself.

(Friedrich Nietzsche, from Daybreak)