those last days, a lot of my thoughts were accompanied by fontane's old briest's sentiment about the field. now the old briest is not someone i have a lot of sympathy for, but i have a lot of sympathy for his sentiment about the field that goes as such: Ach, Luise, laß ... das ist ein zu weites Feld. [this is a field too broad.] far. i think it's impossible to translate. then there is the word ach. but no one has written more beautifully about the word ach than gerbrand bakker in the detour:
He says 'no', 'yes' and 'ach, woman'. He takes it all in his stride. p99
'Ach,' she said, pouring the coffee.
'I think that's a beautiful word,' he said.
'Yes. We don't have a word like that. One that means 'Shut up, you'.' p100
I don't know why you are crying, and if I asked, you'd only say 'ach' and that wouldn't get us anywhere. But there's no need to cry. p124
.....the passim-character of ach. it's cute when the english try to pronounce it. ach, it has sadness in it, resignation maybe, also the aspect of taking anything in one's stride... all in it. generosity and time.
and the field? it's also a name of a gunter grass book, this time translated too far afield. i'm not forgiving grass using that mild sentiment. i wish too that people would stop having romantic ideas on grass bc of that poem.
flowerville always was a place name (of leopold bloom's old farm), not a name for a person. a name that allowed to function as something into which many other aspects can be cluttered underneath; flowerville, an accumulation of imponderabilia of all kinds, actual and verbal.
to not distuingish between men and women, but to distinguish between those with a capacity for gentleness and those without.
of course that would leave out some real-worldproblems which i am too disinterested to think about just now...
how many people see me as the not quite there and so on. as potentially. but not an actuality. the impolite version is: immature. the unfinished, the one that needs more polishing. the beginner, the amateur. all expressions are allowed, all styles of thought, just not my own one.
why would i agree or disagree. i feel too distant from it all, except from the pain that is caused by this of course.
that they want to lift me up tell me what to be interested in, as if i have not - since long - figured out myself what i want to do. you will not be trusted. more important is the trust in what you do.
there is also this, rilke: so little can one of us call back the woman who, now no longer seeing us, walks on along the narrow strip of her existence as though by miracle, in perfect safety -
[so wenig kann einer von uns die Frau
anrufen, die uns nicht mehr sieht und die
auf einem schmalen Streifen ihres Daseins
wie durch ein Wunder fortgeht, ohne Unfall]
you're not normally seen like this. you often feel like this though which is certainly a good thing. you suppose it would be interpreted as uppity to feel like this. that you could be quite happy pottering about in your flowerkingdom, happy in independence.
the idea of a philosophy of weakness, of frailty. i'm sure it's been done before and called care-ethics or somesuch.
but to live in weakness and frailty. what you mean is something where the denominations wouldn't be a judgement. what you also mean is something that takes into account not just the frailty of the self, but also the frailty of everything else...
i am not writing for you, again. just saying.