Saturday, 16 May 2009

Extract from Proust's "The Fugitive"

p535
"When I wrote them, the sentences of my article were so weak compared to my thought, so complicated and opaque compared to my harmonious and transparent vision, so full of gaps which I had not managed to fill, that reading them caused me to suffer, they had only accentuated my feelings of impotence and an incurable lack of talent. But now in forcing myself to become a reader, if I delegated to others the painful duty of judging me, I was at least able to wipe the slate clean of what I had intended to do, by reading what I had done."

3 comments:

  1. So, so true.

    One day someone will invent a cap to put on one's head to read one's thoughts as they come, perhaps even the entire mindmap, and plot it onto a computer, so as to be represented through line and colour, instead of hollow words that can never truly approximate, and are always affected by the people and media that surround us...

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  2. oh, evil choice, images or words!
    How about a cap that swaps words for images and vice versa, automatically...

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  3. It would be a language that appeals directly to the senses and emotions. A journey of experience, with a volume knob to determine how deep you wish to go into the experience you engage in. The storyline always intangible, and potentially different at each visit. A journey into serotonin, with purpose and direction. All without any language as we know it.

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