“Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.”
— Beckett, Malone Dies
“…this cruel madness of language that says everything and that says nothing…”
— Blanchot on Moby-Dick
#MelvilleMonday 🐳
(Faux Pas, tr. Charlotte Mandell)
goethe, west-östlicher divan, selige sehnsucht, “und so lang du das nicht hast, dieses: stirb und werde! bist du nur ein trüber gast auf der dunklen erde.” (“and so long as you have not attained this: die and become! you are only a sombre guest upon the dark earth.”)
Ohhh my god are you trying to erase the traces of your own personality from your novel? Should we tell everyone? Should we throw a party? Should we invite Flaubert
i do sincerely believe that one of life’s greatest experiences is probably proofreading your friend’s work after a very long time and feeling this overwhelming sense of pride at how much they’ve grown as a researcher and writer
“That is the melancholy of art. It achieves an unreal reconciliation at the price of real reconciliation. All that art can do is grieve for the sacrifice it makes, which, in its powerlessness, art itself is.”
— Adorno, Aesthetic Theory (tr. Hullot-Kentor)