Lecan commented on the limitations of language and of our inability to communicate fully clearly and with precision. Speaking to prove at the Penrhos bus stop about the Syrian bombing the two people I speak to are aware that this is all smoke and mirrors. They know what it is really about and each mentions oil and of the illusions of international politics. They mention oil and the nature of a world globalised economy. No one is fooled..
“If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.”
“Why, oh why must one grow up, why must one inherit this heavy,
numbing responsibility of living an undiscovered life? Out of the
nothingness and the undifferentiated mass, to make something of herself!
But what? In the obscurity and pathlessness to take a direction! But
whither? How take even one step? And yet, how stand still? This was
torment indeed, to inherit the responsibility of one’s own life.”
―
―
“But having more freedom she only became more profoundly aware of
the big want. She wanted so many things. She wanted to read great,
beautiful books, and be rich with them; she wanted to see beautiful
things, and have the joy of them for ever; she wanted to know big, free
people; and there remained always the want she could put no name to?
It was so difficult. There were so many things, so much to meet and surpass. And one never knew where one was going.”
It was so difficult. There were so many things, so much to meet and surpass. And one never knew where one was going.”
“She looked at him, and oh, the weariness to her, of the
effort to understand another language, the weariness of hearing
him, attending to him, making out who he was, as he stood there
fair-bearded and alien, looking at her. She knew something of
him, of his eyes. But she could not grasp him. She closed her
eyes.”
―
effort to understand another language, the weariness of hearing
him, attending to him, making out who he was, as he stood there
fair-bearded and alien, looking at her. She knew something of
him, of his eyes. But she could not grasp him. She closed her
eyes.”
―
“Was his life nothing? Had he nothing to show, no work? He did not
count his work, anyone could have done it. What had he known, but the
long, marital embrace with his wife. Curious, that this was what his
life amounted to! At any rate, it was something, it was eternal. He
would say so to anybody, and be proud of it. He lay with his wife in his
arms, and she was still his fulfillment, just the same as ever. And
that was the be-all and the end-all. Yes, and he was proud of it.”
“He felt he had lost it for good, he knew what it was to have been
in communication with her, and to be cast off again. In misery, his
heart like a heavy stone, he went about unliving.”
―
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