daily from March to June 2011
June 3, 2011
I watched Sleepy Hollow yesterday. Differently with other novel-based films I couldn't bear to finish watching (Wuthering Heights, The talented Mr Ripley, High Expectations), I was quite pleased with the film. The plot is nonsense (nothing to do with Washington Irving's funny horror customs-and-manners caustic intelligent novella), but the shooting is powerful and beautiful, and although Johnny Depp's overacts all the time, Christina Ricci's gorgeous presence and acting plentifully makes up for it.
@wisdom @parenting “A few clear ideas are worth more than many confused ones”; “The whole function of thought is to produce habits of action”. Peirce in “How to make our ideas clear”
June 1, 2011
From Manhattan:
He was given to fits of rage, Jewish, liberal paranoia, male chauvinism, self-righteous misanthropy, and nihilistic moods of despair. He had complaints about life, but never any solutions. He longed to be an artist, but balked at the necessary sacrifices. In his most private moments, he spoke of his fear of death, which he elevated to tragic heights when, in fact, was mere narcissism.
May 31 2011
Never had I got the importance of Descartes. Then it comes Peirce and says it all:
When Descartes set about the reconstruction of philosophy, his first step was to (theoretically) permit scepticism and to discard the practice of the schoolmen of looking to authority as the ultimate source of truth.
Later he adds:
Nothing new can ever be learned by analyzing definitions.
To which, after some consideration, I say that's true!
But his immediate nevertherless is likewise true, and something I regard highly in myself and in other people,
Nevertheless, our existing beliefs can be set in order by this process, and order is an essential element of intellectual economy, as of every other.
and which I try hard to instill in M: have a good who's who book of your own mind, and review it often. Not an easy task.
UPDATE: I forgot to quote this (italics mine)
The very first lesson that we have a right to demand that logic shall teach us is, how to make our ideas clear; and a most important one it is, depreciated only by minds who stand in need of it. To know what we think, to be masters of our own meaning, will make a solid foundation for great and weighty thought.
And action.
May 30 2011
These are Aeneas and his people, in their seventh year of wandering after fleeing Troy, when at last they're heading to the Latian coast:
Palinuro,
al frente de las naves, dirige la compacta
multitud: las demás tienen orden de seguir la
suya. Ya la húmeda noche había casi llegado
a la mitad de su carrera, y los marineros,
tendidos bajos los remos en los duros bancos,
relajaban sus miembros, entregados a un
plácido reposo, cuando el leve Sueño, deslizándose
de los etéreos astros, hiende el tenebroso
espacio y ahuyenta las sombras,
buscándote ¡Oh Palinuro! y trayéndote, sin
culpa tuya, tristes visiones. Bajo la figura de
Forbas toma asiento a su lado el dios en la
alta popa y le habla de esta manera: "Palinuro,
hijo de Yasio, observa como las olas por sí
mismas conducen la armada; serenos soplan
los vientos; ésta es la hora de descansar;
inclina la cabeza y sustrae al trabajo los fatigados
ojos. Yo te reemplazaré por un rato."
Alzando a duras penas los ojos, le contesta
Palinuro: ¿Quieres que ignore lo que es la
mar en bonanza y lo que son las olas apacibles?
¿Que me fíe de ese monstruo? ¿Que
entregue la suerte de Eneas a los falaces
vientos, después de haberme engañado tantas
veces las insidias de un cielo sereno?"
That's from The Aeneid, by Virgil.
May 14 2011
Don't read Unamuno's La tía Tula after Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre and alongside Galdós's Zaragoza. Just don't.
May 8 2011
I've just found out I have no passion for F1 anymore.
April 28 2011
When Jane feels she begins harboring high expectations about her and Mr Rochester, she commands herself to the following:
Listen, then, Jane Eyre, to your sentence: to-morrow, place the glass before you, and draw in chalk your own picture, faithfully, without softening one defect; omit no harsh line, smooth away no displeasing irregularity, write under it, 'Portrait of a Governess, disconnected, poor, and plain'.
April 22 2011
There's an entry in my todo list that has been hanging for a while which says: Find an area of expertise.
April 21 2011
So you think Galdós's Episodios Nacionales is a piece of cheap, chauvinist account of the Spanish war against the French, motivated by the writer's old-style patriotism to the glory of his motherland? So did I.
Until I read them.
Trafalgar and El 19 de marzo y el 2 de mayo are outstanding narrations which show Galdós's capacity to reflect the true, brutish nature of war, far from patriotic affections but with a lucid awareness of the combatants' feelings of honor and loyalty alongside.
La corte de Carlos IV is remarkable in which its theme is the moral coming of age of the main character, Gabriel, when he finds himself unable to accept the job offered to him by an high-status dame because of the kind of man it would convert him in.
Bailén is again about the war and its horrors, no distinctions between sides or factions. AndNapoleón en Chamartín offers a balanced presentation of the opposing views and actions regarding the French domination (plus a moving description of love between a man and his wife).
For the rest of the Episodios, I don't know. But these first five ones are wonderful literature and a sound approach to the harsh reality of war.
¿Quién podrá desmentir aquello de el tirano es un hombre que abusa de las fuerzas de la sociedad para someterla a sus pasiones propias, y así la tiranía no es otra cosa que la injusticia apoyada en la violencia?
Benito Pérez Galdós, Napoleón en Chamartín.
April 20 2011
Up to today, I've got 574 fiction books and 436 non-fiction books in my Calibre library. Not a huge quantity, but a big enough one to make it bothersome to decide what to read next.
Today, though, I've come up with a good solution for that --I'll read whatever book comes first in the list, in the order Calibre itself has decided to index them.
So my next fiction reading will include, in this particular order, Flatland by Edwin A. Abbot,Dinosaurios by Arthur C. Clarke, Lituma en Los Andes by Mario Vargas LLosa, La tía Tula by Miguel de Unamuno, and Don Gil de las calzas verdes by Tirso de Molina.
Some of them I wouldn't have ever thought of picking up if I'd had freedom to prioritize.
Gràcies a en Tux estic gaudint de la lectura dels episodis nacionals d'en Benito Pérez Galdós --que són una meravella. Tux és un bon lector, i molt actiu, a Librivox. Fa lectures no interpretatives, discretes, que aconsegueix no fer monòtones i perfectament intel·ligibles (la qual cosa té el seu mèrit --provau de llegir en veu alta un text complex amb diàlegs de múltiples personatges i veureu que no és tan fàcil). I ho fa per amor a l'art, com la resta de gent a Librivox --sense remuneració i posant el resultat del seu treball a l'abast de tothom i amb una llicència de domini públic. En faig patent l'admiració i l'agraïment.
Dit això, no he pogut, en dues ocasions, obrir de bat a bat els ulls mentre l'escoltava, en gest de franca sorpresa o confusió, quan després d'un gran discurs, el narrador diu:
Dicho esto, calló.
I en Tux llegeix (min. 10:37):
Dicho esto, cayó.
¿Cayó? ¿De dónde cayó?
April 19 2011
Schopenhauer (1788-1860) parla de l'honor sexual i diu:
Female honor is the general opinion in regard to a girl that she is pure, and in regard to a wife that she is faithful. The importance of this opinion rests upon the following considerations. Women depend upon men in all the relations of life; men upon women, it might be said, in one only. So an arrangement is made for mutual interdependence--man undertaking responsibility for all woman's needs and also for the children that spring from their union--an arrangement on which is based the welfare of the whole female race.
To carry out this plan, women have to band together with a show of esprit de corps, and present one undivided front to their common enemy, man,--who possesses all the good things of the earth, in virtue of his superior physical and intellectual power,--in order to lay siege to and conquer him, and so get possession of him and a share of those good things.
To this end the honor of all women depends upon the enforcement of the rule that no woman should give herself to a man except in marriage, in order that every man may be forced, as it were, to surrender and ally himself with a woman; by this arrangement provision is made for the whole of the female race.
This is a result, however, which can be obtained only by a strict observance of the rule; and, accordingly, women everywhere show true esprit de corps in carefully insisting upon its maintenance. Any girl who commits a breach of the rule betrays the whole female race, because its welfare would be destroyed if every woman were to do likewise; so she is cast out with shame as one who has lost her honor. No woman will have anything more to do with her; she is avoided like the plague.
The same doom is awarded to a woman who breaks the marriage tie; for in so doing she is false to the terms upon which the man capitulated; and as her conduct is such as to frighten other men from making a similar surrender, it imperils the welfare of all her sisters. Nay, more; this deception and coarse breach of troth is a crime punishable by the loss, not only of personal, but also of civic honor. This is why we minimize the shame of a girl, but not of a wife; because, in the former case, marriage can restore honor, while in the latter, no atonement can be made for the breach of contract.
La qual cosa jo trob original en el punt de vista (el de les dones) i versemblant en la lògica --una argumentació psicologico-evolucionista avant la lettre, que diríem. La pregunta és: ara que les dones ja no depenen dels homes en totes les relacions que hi puguin establir, i que l'home ja no posseeix en exclusiva totes les coses bones de la terra, ¿ha canviat conseqüentment el concepte de l'honor sexual femení?
Pel que fa a la virtut de les fadrines, la resposta pareix que és clarament afirmativa.
April 18 2011
D'una banda, és una pena que el subtítol original del Frankenstein de Mary Shelley, or the Modern Prometheus, hagi desaparegut de les edicions modernes. Aquest subtítol deixa clar que la intenció de l'autora és narrar la història de Víctor, el creador del monstre, i no la del monstre mateix, i que orienta el lector envers la bonica analogia amb la història mitològica per tots sabuda.
D'altra banda, però, potser la història del monstre sigui més interessant que la del seu creador --un pèl massa llarga i retòrica per al meu gust-- i que això justifiqui que la criatura hagi usurpat, amb el pas dels anys, el nom i el protagonisme al jove Frankenstein.
Una bona novel·la, sigui com sigui, contada amb talent, amb un excés de sofisticació i una certa manca de contenció, que planteja qüestions morals i ètiques que fan de bon pensar.
Abandonats: A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man de James Joyce i Vanity Fair de William Thackeray.
April 17 2011
Divendres passat al pati de l'escola mentre esperava en M. i mirava uns infants petits jugar vaig tenir un primer sentiment, embrionari encara, d'enyorança dels temps de quan els teus fills eren petits. I dic embrionari perquè el meu és petit, encara! Però va ser un avanç del què segurament sentiré, quan arribi el temps de la pubertat i l'adolescència, i els nostres camins comencin a separar-se'n, les emocions, els afectes, i la dependència es trenqui, i es els agullons del silenci i de la indiferència es clavin. Ho esper amb ganes i amb interès.
April 15 2011
Feeling unwell today -kind of slight influenza. If I weren't so stupidly beyond superstitions, I'd welcome that and worse --the price it'd take to honor the pledge I'd have engaged with the gods of health, or with the daemon if you want --my health for his.
April 14 2011
If he were vanquished, I should be a free man. Alas! What freedom? Such as the peasant enjoys when his family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt, his lands laid waste, and he's turned adrift, homeless, penniless, and alone, but free.
From Shelley's Frankenstein. It reminds me of what it may be the best thing I've ever written: Imagín una vida en què no estim ningú i en què ningú m'estima, i en la què, en conseqüència, sóc lliure i no tinc por de morir.
How mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we have of life even in the excess of misery!
I'm reading Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley. And I'm also reading Napoleón en Chamartín by Benito Pérez Galdós. Both novels have a common sideline theme, a pathetic one ---the misery one gets when one he loves is utterly wretched and he can do nothing to make him happy.
Scott Adams (Dilbert's cartoonist) says B students (I say also A students) should consider a career in entrepreneurship (and if he thinks American students require it, what should we say about Spanish ones?). He tells the lessons he learned along the way here. Summing them up: combine skills, fail forward, find the action, attract luck, conquer fear, write simply, and learn persuasion.
April 13 2011
Another how would I put it, a web-communication crisis? The fact is that I feel I spend too much time at Buzz, Twitter, and Google Reader. So I've decided to leave most of my activity there for the weekends, and to confine my writing here.
It's always the same story with me --with every piece of feedback I get, be comments, stars, likes or whatever, I feel my freedom shrinks, and in the end I stifle and leave.
March 22 2011
16. Era el dia del meu aniversari. A les 8:30 entràvem a urgències de Son Espases, M s'havia despertat amb l'ull esquerre completament tancat, exactament igual que si li haguessin donat una punyada. Amb poques paraules ens van ordenar un tac; amb moltes hores d'angoixa li varen obrir una via. Encara no sabíem què li passava o el perquè de tot això.
Erem a un box d'urgències quan ens van explicar el què --poques paraules altra vegada. El pobre nin estava ajagudet en una llitera, tranquil i resignat. Em vaig inclinar i amb sorneta li vaig dir a cau d'orella, tu saps quin dia és avui? i ell que fa un somriure preciós i petit i que em diu fluixet molts d'anys papà.
I jo que no puc dir més de tres paraules seguides sense rompre a plorar.
Esperant més tard ja en l'habitació que venguessin a per ell per dur-lo a la sala d'operacions, vam tornar a riure recordant la teoria d'aquell que va dir que els dinosaures s'extingiren per avorriment. Bones rialles que vam fer.
Sereníssim, l'acomiadem a la porta de la sala. Després ens diria que hi havia tot demaquinorres, a on el van operar. I que jo li havia dit que el farien comptar de cent cap avall i que no va ser així.
Se l'enduen. I esperam, Júlia i jo. Esperam.
17. Ens diuen que sortirem l'endemà.
18. No sortim, però M respira millor, el nas no li fa tanta de nosa, i això es nota. Al vespre, deu minuts després d'haver apagat el llum i voler dormir, es gira cap a mi, em somriu, m'estén la maneta, l'encaixa amb la meva, i som feliços, perquè ens tenim l'un a l'altre, encara així, o sobretot així.
19. Al nin del costat, n'Andreuet, el donen d'alta. De cop i volta, l'habitació torna canostra, i sentim joia. Amag els cables i li faig una foto amb la webcam --surt preciós, somrient, el nas cobert d'esteristrips. Fins i tot ens porten una tele, d'una altra habitació que ha quedat buida. I Júlia se'n va a casa l'horabaixa i ens fa el regal de dues pizzes que són la glòria.
20. Sortim als passadisos amb palito, el penjador de tubs i degotadors; fins i tot hi feim surf i patinatge. Ens desanimen un altre pic --potser ara no sortirem l'endemà, sinó l'altre. Llegim un comic de n'Spiderman --M esclata a riure quan el dolent li demana al superheroi que com dimonis l'ha trobat i aquest li diu que molt senzill, a les pàgines grogues secció Imbècils Reunits.
21. Avui ens han de dir alguna cosa. Es dilluns, esperam la visita del metge. Són les nou, són les deu, les onze, es fan les dotze i no ve ningú. Això vol dir que ens quedam, no, això vol dir que ens n'anirem, no, espera, això vol dir que... La una, i res; les dues, i res. A les tres i quart es presenta el metge --ens n'anem a casa!
Ens acomiadem de palito, i cap a Palma manca gent, que a Son Espases ja hem estat prou.