21.12.08
DA SOLIDÃO
Depois disto Zaratustra tornou para a montanha e para a solidão de sua caverna, apartando-se dos homens. E esperou, como o semeador que lançou a sua semente; mas a alma, se lhe encheu de impaciência e desejo do que amava. (...)
Eu sigo novas sendas e encontro uma linguagem nova; à semelhança de todos os criadores, cansei-me das línguas antigas. O meu espírito já não quer correr com solas gastas. Toda a linguagem me torna moroso. Salto para o teu carro, tempestade! E a ti também quero fustigar com a minha malícia!
O meu impaciente amor transborda em torrentes, precipitando-se desde o oriente até o ocaso. Até minha alma se agita nos vales, abandonando os montes silenciosos e as tempestades da dor.
Demasiado tempo sofri e estive em perspectiva. Demasiado tempo me possuiu a solidão. Agora esqueci o silêncio. Todo eu me tornei qual boca e murmúrio de um rio que salta de elevadas penhas: quero precipitar as minhas palavras nos vales. Corre o rio do meu amor para o insuperável! Como não encontraria um rio enfim o caminho do mar? Sem dúvida há um lago em mim, um lago solitário que se basta a si mesmo; mas o meu rio de amor arrasta-o consigo para o mar.
Demasiado tempo sofri e estive em perspectiva. Demasiado tempo me possuiu a solidão. Agora esqueci o silêncio. Todo eu me tornei qual boca e murmúrio de um rio que salta de elevadas penhas: quero precipitar as minhas palavras nos vales. Corre o rio do meu amor para o insuperável! Como não encontraria um rio enfim o caminho do mar? Sem dúvida há um lago em mim, um lago solitário que se basta a si mesmo; mas o meu rio de amor arrasta-o consigo para o mar.
Eu sigo novas sendas e encontro uma linguagem nova; à semelhança de todos os criadores, cansei-me das línguas antigas. O meu espírito já não quer correr com solas gastas. Toda a linguagem me torna moroso. Salto para o teu carro, tempestade! E a ti também quero fustigar com a minha malícia!
Assim falava Zaratustra.
Friedrich Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche
12.12.08
DESERTO
Aprendi a ler aos quatro anos. Devorei todos os livros da casa e da família até os 10, mais ou menos. Depois comecei a freqüentar a biblioteca pública no centro da cidade. Eu devia ter uns 13 anos quando me disseram que a biblioteca ia fechar para reforma e reformulação do registro de livros. Me ofereci como voluntária, não queria me afastar daquele lugar. Acho que me aceitaram por costume de já me terem por perto. Não sei se ajudei muito, mas manusear livros que, do contrário, eu nunca tocaria, me fez muito bem.
Um desses livros-descoberta foi um conto do Balzac, até então desconhecido pra mim, Uma paixão no deserto, que conta uma história de amor entre um homem e uma onça. Nunca esqueci das palavras finais que eram mais ou menos essas:
"Eles terminaram como todas as grandes paixões terminam - por um mal entendido. Por algum razão um suspeita da traição do outro; não se chega a uma explicação por orgulho, e parte-se para uma disputa obstinada."
"Ainda que às vezes uma única palavra ou um olhar seja o bastante."
Ultimamente tenho me sentido burra e tenho lido muito mal e pouco, com a diferença, em relação aos totalmente ignorantes, que eu sei o que perco.
Um desses livros-descoberta foi um conto do Balzac, até então desconhecido pra mim, Uma paixão no deserto, que conta uma história de amor entre um homem e uma onça. Nunca esqueci das palavras finais que eram mais ou menos essas:
"Eles terminaram como todas as grandes paixões terminam - por um mal entendido. Por algum razão um suspeita da traição do outro; não se chega a uma explicação por orgulho, e parte-se para uma disputa obstinada."
"Ainda que às vezes uma única palavra ou um olhar seja o bastante."
Ultimamente tenho me sentido burra e tenho lido muito mal e pouco, com a diferença, em relação aos totalmente ignorantes, que eu sei o que perco.
10.12.08
CORRESPONDÊNCIA
"Tenho certeza que você ia me mandar ir à merda ou qualquer coisa assim, mas preciso que alguém me mande à merda. E só você consegue fazer isso com propriedade."
BRING BACK THE GREEK GODS
Mere mortals had a better life when more than one ruler presided from on high.
By Mary Lefkowitz
October 23, 2007
By Mary Lefkowitz
October 23, 2007
Prominent secular and atheist commentators have argued lately that religion "poisons" human life and causes endless violence and suffering. But the poison isn't religion; it's monotheism. The polytheistic Greeks didn't advocate killing those who worshiped different gods, and they did not pretend that their religion provided the right answers. Their religion made the ancient Greeks aware of their ignorance and weakness, letting them recognize multiple points of view.
There is much we still can learn from these ancient notions of divinity, even if we can agree that the practices of animal sacrifice, deification of leaders and divining the future through animal entrails and bird flights are well lost.
My Hindu students could always see something many scholars miss: The Greek gods weren't mere representations of forces in nature but independent beings with transcendent powers who controlled the world and everything in it. Some of the gods were strictly local, such as the deities of rivers and forests. Others were universal, such as Zeus, his siblings and his children.
Zeus did not communicate directly with humankind. But his children -- Athena, Apollo and Dionysus -- played active roles in human life. Athena was the closest to Zeus of all the gods; without her aid, none of the great heroes could accomplish anything extraordinary. Apollo could tell mortals what the future had in store for them. Dionysus could alter human perception to make people see what's not really there. He was worshiped in antiquity as the god of the theater and of wine. Today, he would be the god of psychology.
Zeus, the ruler of the gods, retained his power by using his intelligence along with superior force. Unlike his father (whom he deposed), he did not keep all the power for himself but granted rights and privileges to other gods. He was not an autocratic ruler but listened to, and was often persuaded by, the other gods.
Openness to discussion and inquiry is a distinguishing feature of Greek theology. It suggests that collective decisions often lead to a better outcome. Respect for a diversity of viewpoints informs the cooperative system of government the Athenians called democracy.
Unlike the monotheistic traditions, Greco-Roman polytheism was multicultural. The Greeks and Romans did not share the narrow view of the ancient Hebrews that a divinity could only be masculine. Like many other ancient peoples in the eastern Mediterranean, the Greeks recognized female divinities, and they attributed to goddesses almost all of the powers held by the male gods.
The world, as the Greek philosopher Thales wrote, is full of gods, and all deserve respect and honor. Such a generous understanding of the nature of divinity allowed the ancient Greeks and Romans to accept and respect other people's gods and to admire (rather than despise) other nations for their own notions of piety. If the Greeks were in close contact with a particular nation, they gave the foreign gods names of their own gods: the Egyptian goddess Isis was Demeter, Horus was Apollo, and so on. Thus they incorporated other people's gods into their pantheon.
What they did not approve of was atheism, by which they meant refusal to believe in the existence of any gods at all. One reason many Athenians resented Socrates was that he claimed a divinity spoke with him privately, but he could not name it. Similarly, when Christians denied the existence of any gods other than their own, the Romans suspected political or seditious motives and persecuted them as enemies of the state.
The existence of many different gods also offers a more plausible account than monotheism of the presence of evil and confusion in the world. A mortal may have had the support of one god but incur the enmity of another, who could attack when the patron god was away. The goddess Hera hated the hero Heracles and sent the goddess Madness to make him kill his wife and children. Heracles' father, Zeus, did nothing to stop her, although he did in the end make Heracles immortal.
But in the monotheistic traditions, in which God is omnipresent and always good, mortals must take the blame for whatever goes wrong, even though God permits evil to exist in the world he created. In the Old Testament, God takes away Job's family and his wealth but restores him to prosperity after Job acknowledges God's power.
The god of the Hebrews created the Earth for the benefit of humankind. But as the Greeks saw it, the gods made life hard for humans, didn't seek to improve the human condition and allowed people to suffer and die. As a palliative, the gods could offer only to see that great achievement was memorialized. There was no hope of redemption, no promise of a happy life or rewards after death. If things did go wrong, as they inevitably did, humans had to seek comfort not from the gods but from other humans.
The separation between humankind and the gods made it possible for humans to complain to the gods without the guilt or fear of reprisal the deity of the Old Testament inspired. Mortals were free to speculate about the character and intentions of the gods. By allowing mortals to ask hard questions, Greek theology encouraged them to learn, to seek all the possible causes of events. Philosophy -- that characteristically Greek invention -- had its roots in such theological inquiry. As did science.
Paradoxically, the main advantage of ancient Greek religion lies in this ability to recognize and accept human fallibility. Mortals cannot suppose that they have all the answers. The people most likely to know what to do are prophets directly inspired by a god. Yet prophets inevitably meet resistance, because people hear only what they wish to hear, whether or not it is true. Mortals are particularly prone to error at the moments when they think they know what they are doing. The gods are fully aware of this human weakness. If they choose to communicate with mortals, they tend to do so only indirectly, by signs and portents, which mortals often misinterpret.
Ancient Greek religion gives an account of the world that in many respects is more plausible than that offered by the monotheistic traditions. Greek theology openly discourages blind confidence based on unrealistic hopes that everything will work out in the end. Such healthy skepticism about human intelligence and achievements has never been needed more than it is today.
Mary Lefkowitz is professor emerita at Wellesley College and the author of "Greek Gods, Human Lives" and the forthcoming "History Lesson."
There is much we still can learn from these ancient notions of divinity, even if we can agree that the practices of animal sacrifice, deification of leaders and divining the future through animal entrails and bird flights are well lost.
My Hindu students could always see something many scholars miss: The Greek gods weren't mere representations of forces in nature but independent beings with transcendent powers who controlled the world and everything in it. Some of the gods were strictly local, such as the deities of rivers and forests. Others were universal, such as Zeus, his siblings and his children.
Zeus did not communicate directly with humankind. But his children -- Athena, Apollo and Dionysus -- played active roles in human life. Athena was the closest to Zeus of all the gods; without her aid, none of the great heroes could accomplish anything extraordinary. Apollo could tell mortals what the future had in store for them. Dionysus could alter human perception to make people see what's not really there. He was worshiped in antiquity as the god of the theater and of wine. Today, he would be the god of psychology.
Zeus, the ruler of the gods, retained his power by using his intelligence along with superior force. Unlike his father (whom he deposed), he did not keep all the power for himself but granted rights and privileges to other gods. He was not an autocratic ruler but listened to, and was often persuaded by, the other gods.
Openness to discussion and inquiry is a distinguishing feature of Greek theology. It suggests that collective decisions often lead to a better outcome. Respect for a diversity of viewpoints informs the cooperative system of government the Athenians called democracy.
Unlike the monotheistic traditions, Greco-Roman polytheism was multicultural. The Greeks and Romans did not share the narrow view of the ancient Hebrews that a divinity could only be masculine. Like many other ancient peoples in the eastern Mediterranean, the Greeks recognized female divinities, and they attributed to goddesses almost all of the powers held by the male gods.
The world, as the Greek philosopher Thales wrote, is full of gods, and all deserve respect and honor. Such a generous understanding of the nature of divinity allowed the ancient Greeks and Romans to accept and respect other people's gods and to admire (rather than despise) other nations for their own notions of piety. If the Greeks were in close contact with a particular nation, they gave the foreign gods names of their own gods: the Egyptian goddess Isis was Demeter, Horus was Apollo, and so on. Thus they incorporated other people's gods into their pantheon.
What they did not approve of was atheism, by which they meant refusal to believe in the existence of any gods at all. One reason many Athenians resented Socrates was that he claimed a divinity spoke with him privately, but he could not name it. Similarly, when Christians denied the existence of any gods other than their own, the Romans suspected political or seditious motives and persecuted them as enemies of the state.
The existence of many different gods also offers a more plausible account than monotheism of the presence of evil and confusion in the world. A mortal may have had the support of one god but incur the enmity of another, who could attack when the patron god was away. The goddess Hera hated the hero Heracles and sent the goddess Madness to make him kill his wife and children. Heracles' father, Zeus, did nothing to stop her, although he did in the end make Heracles immortal.
But in the monotheistic traditions, in which God is omnipresent and always good, mortals must take the blame for whatever goes wrong, even though God permits evil to exist in the world he created. In the Old Testament, God takes away Job's family and his wealth but restores him to prosperity after Job acknowledges God's power.
The god of the Hebrews created the Earth for the benefit of humankind. But as the Greeks saw it, the gods made life hard for humans, didn't seek to improve the human condition and allowed people to suffer and die. As a palliative, the gods could offer only to see that great achievement was memorialized. There was no hope of redemption, no promise of a happy life or rewards after death. If things did go wrong, as they inevitably did, humans had to seek comfort not from the gods but from other humans.
The separation between humankind and the gods made it possible for humans to complain to the gods without the guilt or fear of reprisal the deity of the Old Testament inspired. Mortals were free to speculate about the character and intentions of the gods. By allowing mortals to ask hard questions, Greek theology encouraged them to learn, to seek all the possible causes of events. Philosophy -- that characteristically Greek invention -- had its roots in such theological inquiry. As did science.
Paradoxically, the main advantage of ancient Greek religion lies in this ability to recognize and accept human fallibility. Mortals cannot suppose that they have all the answers. The people most likely to know what to do are prophets directly inspired by a god. Yet prophets inevitably meet resistance, because people hear only what they wish to hear, whether or not it is true. Mortals are particularly prone to error at the moments when they think they know what they are doing. The gods are fully aware of this human weakness. If they choose to communicate with mortals, they tend to do so only indirectly, by signs and portents, which mortals often misinterpret.
Ancient Greek religion gives an account of the world that in many respects is more plausible than that offered by the monotheistic traditions. Greek theology openly discourages blind confidence based on unrealistic hopes that everything will work out in the end. Such healthy skepticism about human intelligence and achievements has never been needed more than it is today.
Mary Lefkowitz is professor emerita at Wellesley College and the author of "Greek Gods, Human Lives" and the forthcoming "History Lesson."
9.12.08
7.12.08
SERTÃO, SER TANTOS
…Sertão é sem lugar. Sertão é o sozinho. Sertão é dentro da gente.
Explico ao senhor: o diabo vige dentro do homem, os crespos do homem – ou é o homem arruinado, ou o homem dos avessos. Solto, por si, é que não tem diabo nenhum...
O que era isso? Que a desordem da vida podia sempre mais que a gente.
Aprender a viver é que é viver mesmo.
4.12.08
...
Então eu falei pra mim: get a life.
(De vez em quando falo isso pra mim. E o pior é que eu ouço.)
(De vez em quando falo isso pra mim. E o pior é que eu ouço.)
3.12.08
PRESENTE?
Ganhei de um moço do trabalho. Passou pela livraria do aeroporto e viu as Aventudas da Bruxa Vivianne.
2.12.08
PRA CANTAR JUNTO
You talk like Marlene Dietrich
And you dance like Zizi Jeanmaire
Your clothes are all made by Balmain
And there's diamonds and pearls in your hair, yes there are
You live in a fancy apartment
Off the Boulevard Saint-Michel
Where you keep your Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel, yes you do
But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
I've seen all your qualifications
You got from the Sorbonne
And the painting you stole from Picasso
Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does
When you go on your summer vacation
You go to Juan-les-Pins
With your carefully designed topless swimsuit
You get an even suntan on your back and on your legs
And when the snow falls you're found in Saint Moritz
With the others of the jet-set
And you sip your Napoleon brandy
But you never get your lips wet, no you don't
But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
Won't you tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
Your name, it is heard in high places
You know the Aga Khan
He sent you a racehorse for Christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh, a-ha-ha-ha
They say that when you get married
It'll be to a millionaire
But they don't realize where you came from
And I wonder if they really care, or give a damn
Where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do
I remember the back streets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly-born tags, so they try
So look into my face Marie-Claire
And remember just who you are
Then go and forget me forever
But I know you still bear the scar, deep inside, yes you do
I know where you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
'Cause I can look inside your head
(na na-na-na na na-na-na na-na na na na na)
(na na-na-na na na-na-na na-na na na na na)
1.12.08
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