Archive for the ‘Books’ Category

(one more time, thank you brainpickings for the great tip!)

“You can be lonely anywhere, but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people.”

[The Lonely City] Olivia Laing (2016)

“There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult.” (p. 225)

[The Hours] Michael Cunningham (1998)

Bellow there is some quotes from Eric G. Wilson’s book “Agains Happiness: in praise of melancholy” (2008 – Sarah Crichton Books / 1st paperback edition in 2009):

“That’d finally it; happy types ultimately don’t live their own liver at all. They follow some prefabricated script, some ton-step plan for bliss or some stairway to heaven.” (p. 28)

“Once we accept these seasons of mental water as inevitable parts of our life – indeed, once we affirm them as essential elements of existence – then the paradox comes truly alive. We actually feel, in the midst of our sorrow, something akin to joy. […] We die into life.” (p. 37)

“[…] the sense that chaos is the original power of the universe, an indifferent reservoir out of which pairs of opposites arise.” (p. 49)

“Ever since the fifth century B.C., people had feared the most sinister of the four humors: melancholia, or black bile. In classical Greece, physicians like Hippocrates believes that the body was composed of four humors. These were cholera, phlegm, blood, and, of course, melancholia. According to the ancient theory, these humors dictated dispositions. A chronically irascible man suffered from much cholera. A tranquil individual possessed an overload of phlegm. A vigorous soul enjoyed a good quantity of blood. And a morose person was beset by a predominance of black bile.

This melancholy person was open to the most pernicious evils. He could turn misanthropic, fearful, despondent, nervous, or mad.” (p. 70)

“[…] the durable melancholia reveals the secret of joy while ecstasy unveils the core of gloom. Sensing this interdependence, we feel ready to move this way or that, light on our feet, untroubled by a desire to grasp that side or this. We can play in the middle.” (p. 84)

“[…]’chase away the demons, and they will take the angels with them.’” (p. 99)

“Indeed, you can experience beauty only when you have a melancholy foreboding that all things in this world will die. The transience of an object makes it beautiful, and its transience is manifested in its fault lines, its expressions of decrepitude. To go in fear of death is to forgo beauty for prettiness, that flaccid rebellion against corrosion. To walk with death in your head is to open the heart to peerless flashes of fire.” (p. 115)

“[…] Without melancholia, the earth would likely freeze into a fixed state, as predictable as metal. Only with the help of constant sorrow can this dying world be changes, enlivened, pushed to the new.” (p. 145)

Against Happiness


[subculture] –

we look the same/we talk the same/we are the same/we are the same





[a vida social das coisas] Luceni Hellebrandt (2016)


*o título da foto foi inspirado na teoria apresentada por Arjun Appadurai no livro The Social Life of Things – Cambridge University Press, 1988.

“O primeiro deles, articulado por Hobbes, minuciosamente elaborado por Durkheim e transformado em pressuposto tácito incorporado ao senso comum da filosofia e da ciência social por volta da metade do século XX, apresentava a coerção societária e as restrições impostas pela regulação normativa à liberdade individual como um meio necessário, inevitável e, no final das contas, salutar e benéfico de proteger o convívio humano da ‘guerra de todos contra todos’, e os indivíduos de uma vida ‘desagradável, brutal e curta’. O fim da coerção social administrada pelas autoridades, diziam os defensores desse argumento (se esse fim fosse de todo viável ou mesmo imaginável), não iria libertar os indivíduos. Pelo contrário, só os tornaria incapazes de resistir aos mórbidos estímulos de seus próprios instintos anti-sociais. Iriam se tornar vítimas de uma escravidão muito mais horripilante do que a que poderia ser produzida por todas as pressões das duras realidades sociais. Freud apresentaria a coerção socialmente exercida e a resultante limitação das liberdades individuais como a própria essência da civilização: civilização sem coerção seria algo impensável, devido ao ‘princípio do prazer’ (tal como o estímulo a procurar satisfação sexual ou a inclinação inata dos seres humanos à preguiça), que guiaria a conduta individual para a terra desolada da não-sociabilidade, se não fosse restringido, limitado e contrabalançado pelo ‘princípio da realidade’, ajudado pelo poder e operado pela autoridade.”
[Vida para Consumo] Zigmunt Bauman (2008 BR: 114-115 / 2007 EN)

Esse trecho caiu no meio das minhas reflexões de encerramento do ano que morei na Holanda, e, talvez, na tentativa de achar respostas que me convençam sobre o que vale a pena a volta ao Brasil. A coerção social que move a civilizada sociedade holandesa é a produção de indivíduos ativos. Não há desculpas para a inabilidade social, nem que ela seja uma escolha. Há um esforço camuflado que funciona em forma de coerção social para que os indivíduos sejam engajados na sociedade, ao passo que, no Brasil, esses indivíduos são apenas ignorados. E, neste ponto, olhando simplesmente este aspecto, considero que a liberdade individual no Brasil é infinitamente superior ao civilizado mundo social holandês.

[Quanto vale a liberdade?] Cólera (1998)

“Did it matter, then, she asked herself, walking toward Bond Street. Did it matter that she must inevitably cease, completely. All this must go on without her. Did she resent it? Or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely? It is possible to die. It is possible to die.”

[The Hours] Michael Cunningham (1998)


Posted: February 17, 2015 in Books
Tags: , , ,

“Haven’t you noticed that our society is organized for this kind of liquidation? You have heard, of course, of those tiny fish in the rivers of Brazil that attack the unwary swimmer by thousands and with swift little nibbles clean him up in a few minutes, leaving only an immaculate skeleton? Well, that’s what their organization is. “Do you want a clean life? Like everybody else?” You say yes, of course. How can one say no? “O.K. You’ll be cleaned up. Here’s a job, a family, and organized leisure activities.” And the little teeth attck the flesh, right down to the bone. But I am unjst. I shouldn’t say their organization. It is ours, after all: it’s a question of which will clean up the other.”

[The Fall] Albert Camus