Alvaro Mutis on the monarchy

The paradox, quite painful for me, is that very young I was already a royalist. I could almost say, since childhood. My first readings of history led me to research where the monarchy came from and how it worked. I know full well that the monarchy, as I conceive it and other eras have experienced it, is now unthinkable.[…] For me, a power that comes from a transcendence, from a divine origin, and which is assumed as such by the king, as an obligation before a being and an authority superior to men, is much more convincing. From this engagement of the king comes the source, the origin, the reason for this power which is his during his life, as well as the right of his sons to inherit this power, after the ceremony of the coronation. This seems much more acceptable to me, and I commune and live with it much better than with laws, regulations, codes approved by a majority consensus, to which I must submit and which were created by men in my image. That the majority agrees on the fact that society should be like this or like that, for me it means absolutely nothing. For this society to deserve my respect, for me to feel concerned by it and for it to be entitled to my respect, it must be of superior origin, and not the fruit of a logical process, rehearsed and prepared by a group of men who claim to represent the majority of the population. Because in my opinion, it is then the most abominable tyranny that can exist.

Extracts from Souvenirs and other fantasies , book interviews with Eduardo Garcia Aguilar, Editions Folle Avoine.

Excerpt from Le Hussard. Poem by Alvaro Mutis

[…] The century-old must of wine, which is sprinkled with water in the cellars.
The power of his arm and his bronze shadow.
The stained glass window which recounts his loves and recalls his last battle darkens a little more each day under the smoke of the lamps nourished with bad oil.
Like the howl of a siren announcing to boats a shoal of scarlet fish is the complaint of the one who loved him more than any other,
the one who left her home to sleep against her saber slipped under the pillow and kiss her a soldier's hard stomach.
Like the sails of a ship that swell or sag, like the dawn that dissipates the fog on the airfields, like the silent walk of a barefoot man in an undergrowth, the news has spread of his death,
the pain of his open wounds in the evening sun, without pestilence, but with all the appearances of spontaneous dissolution.
The whole truth is not in this story. Missing in words is everything that constituted the drunken cataract of his life, the sonorous parade of the best of his days that motivated the song, his exemplary figure, his sins like so many precious coins, his effective and beautiful weapons.

Excerpt from the poem Le Hussard published in Les Elements du Disaster, Editions Grasset. Tribute day to Alvaro Mutis, extraordinary storyteller, immense writer, wonderful friend.

Night. Poem by Alvaro Mutis

The fever attracts the song of an androgynous bird
opening the way to the insatiable pleasure
that branches out and crosses the body of the earth.
Oh !
the fruitless navigation around the islands Where women offer the traveler
the cool balance of their breasts
And the terrifying sound in the hollow of their hips!
The tender, smooth skin of the day
is falling apart like the shell of an infamous fruit.
The fever attracts the song of the cesspools
where the water carries the garbage.

With the poem Nocturne published in The Elements of Disaster, Editions Grasset, I begin this day of homage to Alvaro Mutis, extraordinary storyteller, immense writer, formidable friend.

In the shadow of Ernesto Sabato

When Ernesto Sabato passed away on April 30 at the age of 99, he repeated the words of Maria Zambrano to himself: To die, this elusive action which is carried out by obeying, happens beyond reality, in another realm . In his house in Santos Lugarès (“Holy Places” near Buenos Aires), Ernesto Sabato obeys this last injunction. He has been preparing for it for a long time. In Resistance , his moving literary testament published in 2002, he wrote: I forgot large parts of my life, but, on the other hand, certain encounters, moments of danger and the names of those who pulled me out of depressions and bitterness still throbs in my hands. And yours too, you who believe in me, who have read my books and are going to help me die.

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Newman and Socrates

The links between ancient Greek philosophy and Christianity are numerous. The most famous of the Greek precepts: Gnothi Seauton , "Know thyself", inscribed in Delphi retains a certain mystery. Another end of the sentence has stuck with us: “But not too much”… Know yourself… But not too much! Plato leads Socrates to reflect on the Delphic formula in the Philebus :

SOCRATES: In short, it is a species of vice which takes its name from a particular habit, and this part of vice in general is a disposition contrary to that recommended by the Delphi inscription.

PROTARCHUS: It is a precept: know thyself, that thou speakest, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Yes, and the opposite of this precept, in the language of the inscription, would be not to know oneself at all.
"Know thyself" in order to improve yourself, to erase in you what hinders your development. Not knowing himself is already a fault for Socrates. "But not too much", because man so easily believes himself much more than he is, son of Adam, man is the plaything of his presumption. “But not too much” so as not to take yourself for a god.
This is one of the foundations of Greek culture, the idea of ​​knowing oneself, the idea of ​​wisdom, of advancing in wisdom, but also the feeling that if you dig too deep, surprises can arise, and not necessarily good. The Greeks were very aware of man's weaknesses, his shortcomings. The Greeks are even, with the Christians, those who have most highlighted the possibility of human weakness, it is also what makes them so close to us. The weakness of man is expressed in their gospels, the tragedies. Pity and terror are the two pillars. Know yourself… but not too much.

Japan book review

I have just finished reading “Le Masque du Samourai”, an essay by Aude Fieschi (Éditions Philippe Picquier). It is a didactic book, well written, which presents the different facets of the Samurai through the Japanese Middle Ages until its decline with the advent of modern Japan.

Philia, agapê and other little things…

The Greeks used three words to designate love: éros, carnal love, philia, friendship, and agapê, accomplished and mature love. 

Is love only there to comfort us? Shouldn't we seek to give meaning to love as to every event in life? Only meaning saves the human condition. The meaning… The big question. The inevitable question. Nothing is worth living in the absence of meaning. Meaning is man's big question, especially since he understands nothing about it and has no control over it. As often the man controls all the less that he screams to believe the contrary. A love whose meaning is absent will remain an eros. It is possible to answer that eros also gives meaning: the caresses, the kisses, the bodies that fit together are a discovery of the other. If the Greek eros is most often a matter of abduction, of possession, it would be wrong to sum it up there. The boundaries between the three loves can be fine. Our time likes to relativize these borders. Transgression awaits the slightest of our steps; or our missteps.

The sense of love surpasses us, and elevates us. God gives us His son and causes him to die on the cross for the sole purpose of giving meaning to our lives. He eradicates the sin by bringing it to light. It designates love as the only alternative to evil. And we must also remember Saint Paul:

When I would speak in tongues, that of men and that of angels, if I lack love, I am a resounding metal, a resounding cymbal.

When I have the gift of prophecy, the science of all mysteries and all knowledge, when I have the most total faith, that which moves mountains, if I lack love, I am nothing .

When I would distribute all my goods to the hungry, when I would deliver my body to the flames, if I lack love, I gain nothing.

Love takes patience, love is helpful, it doesn't be jealous, it doesn't show off, it doesn't get puffed up, it doesn't do anything ugly, it doesn't seek its interest, it doesn't does not irritate, he does not harbor grudges, he does not rejoice in injustice, but he finds joy in the truth.

He excuses everything, he believes everything, he hopes for everything, he endures everything.

Love never goes away.

The prophecies? They will be abolished.

Languages ​​? They will end.

The knowledge ? It will be abolished.

For our knowledge is limited and our prophecy is limited. But when perfection comes, what is limited will be abolished.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. Having become a man, I put an end to what was proper to the child.

Now we see as in a mirror and in a confused way, but then it will be face to face.

Now my knowledge is limited, but then I will know as I am known.

So now these three remain, faith, hope and love, but love is the greatest.(1)

We see that agape sits at the top of love. Agape is this ultimate end, as the true meaning of love. Reading Saint Paul, we also realize that friendship is entirely contained in love. Philia can be thought of alone, but its Christian purpose is to become an agape. We also understand that his failure will be not to succeed in this transformation. Imagine a philia between a man and a woman: there is always a risk of seduction. What is a philia abandoning itself in eros?

Finally, we note that agape is a love devoid of seduction. He does not use “tricks”, artifices. Obviously those are left to the Prince of this world.

A new friendship is a revealed world that extends to our feet. What reflex do we have? Facing a world that stretches out at our feet. Are we responsible for it ( respondere , do we answer for it)? Did we do anything to deserve this new love? No, we haven't done anything. So little meaning has come out of our daily gestures. Our first instinct is often to trample this world under foot, because immediately in the face of beauty we think of appropriating it. Here is the man. What is beautiful, what is better, what is beyond us, must belong to us. Not God. No, not God. Because modern man has stopped believing in God. Too big, too strong, no time for this crap he can't make his own. What exceeds it deserves only possession or contempt. We must always go faster. We do not have time. If one cannot possess, if one cannot enjoy, one despises. It is therefore easy to understand the popularity of eros.

All creatures lack something, and not just not being a creator.

To those who are carnal, we know, there is a lack of pure beings.

But to those who are pure, it must be known, they lack carnality.(2)

So this world knocking at the door? If he gives himself, we dominate him. If it gives itself, we possess it. This sums up our sufficiency vis-à-vis the Other. Because there is no place more egalitarian than love. Love is truth and everyone is equal in the face of truth.

Many friendships fail after a while. In the majority of cases, this failure reveals itself as soon as one or both parties take pride in themselves. As soon as one or both parties want to possess, or comfort themselves in a deaf feeling of superiority. As soon as one or both parties adopt a paternalistic position, there is no more listening. As soon as there can no longer be any real listening, as soon as it is subject to a value judgment, an invisible and unspoken, but full and complete, hierarchy sets in. There is no longer the minimum required to speak and hear each other. The word no longer makes sense.

1- We also know that in this offering of Saint Paul we can replace the word love with the name of Jesus. We will enjoy reciting these stanzas in this way and becoming impregnated with them.

Translation of the author of Saint Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13, 1).

2- Péguy, The Porch of the Mystery of the Second Virtue.

Another stopover...

Alvaro Mutis is a very great writer and what does not spoil one of my very dear friends. As he hasn't published any books for a few years, I thought I would pay him a little tribute through quotes from "The Last Stopover of the Tramp Steamer", this short novel is full of the grace that reading Alvaro Mutis provides. To re discover the Colombian writer.

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What Monsieur Ouine says in our time…

Monsieur Ouine , one of the greatest French novels of the 20th century, provides many answers to the modern world as it goes. The few quotes that follow give a glimpse of the Evil insinuated everywhere.

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