“We are dwarfs on the shoulders of giants; we see more than they, and further; not that our gaze is piercing, nor lofty in stature, but we are elevated, heightened, by their gigantic stature”.
This quote from Bernard de Chartres (12th century) found in Rémi Brague's latest book, Moderately Modern (Editions Flammarion), always strikes me as brighter each time I read it. Tradition is never what traditionalists or progressives say it is. Tradition resolutely ignores divisions. She doesn't even know confrontation. Tradition boils down to a deep sense of balance and serenity. If we dive into her, we immediately realize that she is inaccessible to most men, that few are those of whom she could be proud, that they were always armed with prodigious humility. But all those who wanted to put her in a cage because they hated her influence or those who did the same because they wanted to protect her from herself and keep her for themselves, did not understand or saw a thing. . The tradition is unalterable. Contrary to popular belief, its destruction is impossible. At worst, is it possible to forget it. And forgetting it does him no harm. She knows how to reserve herself. She is never in a hurry, panicked in the face of her time. She takes her time, since she accompanies him. If men forget her, she knows how to leave traces here and there so that we rediscover her existence when the time comes.
It is like water: no one can break it or hold it.
You should almost not refer to it. You should act as if she wasn't there. We deserve it so little… It immediately loses its luster when we talk about it, when we bring it down to our level. Tradition is intrinsically linked to life; in reality, they are one. They go together.
During 1987, I thought my time had come. My life was falling apart. Life never falls apart, it will take me a few years to figure it out; either it stops, or it is transformed. My life was therefore transformed, violently, intensely, it offered me the enantiodromos as the Greeks say. The enantiodromos is this road which splits, which separates, which becomes two, and confronts us with a choice. The enantiodromos allowed me to understand what freedom was. It was an unprecedented situation, I was about to realize it. This crossing where life takes a completely unexpected turn marks the passage from childhood to adulthood. This moment has no age. I mean you can experience it at any age. What you shouldn't do is not live it. Not understanding what differentiates the freedom experienced in childhood from the freedom chosen in adulthood. Because the choice made, we become another; the experience reveals to us and gives a framework and foundations to the personality.