/Library of Babel/ {in the process of "being built"}: Jean-Paul Sartre ~ “The Wall”

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Saturday, March 20, 2010

Jean-Paul Sartre ~ “The Wall”

Jean-Paul Sartre ~ “The Wall”

New Directions Paper Book | 1969 | 158 pp

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~ “The Wall”, the lead story in this collection, introduces three political prisoners on the night prior to their execution. Through the gaze of an impartial doctor - seemingly there for the men's solace - their mental descent is charted in exquisite, often harrowing detail. And as the morning draws inexorably closer, the men cross the psychological wall between life and death, long before the first shot rings out. This brilliant snapshot of life in anguish is the perfect introduction to a collection of stories where the neurosis of the modern world is mirrored in the lives of the people that inhabit it. 'The Wall' rises up as a catalogue of man's solitary and free application of the existentialist's understanding. Sartre leaves no dark corner unlit in what could be considered his most biting renderings of the human condition's anguish in the face of meaninglessness. ~

~ "The Wall" itself is an astoundingly suspenseful glimpse at the fine line between life and death, the insanity in ultimate human will-power, and the psychological effects of foreknowing one's own time of death. ~

~ "The Room" is stark and vague. Interpretations abound, all from absurd (in itself) to Sartre's most profound writing. Nevertheless, the story's 'insanity' brings about many insights into the world of the individual of nothingness. ~

~ 'Erostratus' follows quite well, asking whether it is moral, immoral, right, or wrong, to kill and whether a modern man is truly free to commit conscious evil. Furthermore, it questions our modern society's knack for making celebrities of villains. ~

~ 'Intimacy' is a wonderful story with heavy-handed, deadbolt dialogue, well-crafted absurd heroes, and philosophical wit, wound up in a woman's tale of love, adultery, loyalty, friendship, impotence, and existence. ~

~ Finally, 'The Childhood of a Leader' reveals the Fascist's facade of strength, the soft scar-tissue of their idealistic youth, the true childishness of their anti-Semite reactions, and the way in which men allow themselves to follow or hunger to be followed. ~

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Library.Babel

Interests: Schizophrenia, Metaphysics, Existentialism, Autism... Andrzej Tarkovsky... Ingmar Bergman... Fyodor Dostoevsky, Franz Kafka, Jorge Luis Borges, Milan Kundera... M.D. Ramanathan, Kumar Gandharva... J.S. Bach, Wagner...

/Library of Babel/ {in the process of "being built"}

~ The {Title} is taken from Borges' {The Library at Babel} ~

Borges' "The Library at Babel" is a story that encompasses a world. The world that is a library, a library that is a universe broken into endless hexagons connected by stairs and hallways. It's unlike any library that has ever existed, a library of the mind, a virtual library, and as such the source of imaginative illustration. I've encountered pictures of its hexagonal galleries and infinite air shafts on Web Sites, and recently the story was re-published in hardcover with engravings by Erik Desmazieres, who gave the Library's interior a spooky look that I associate with the interiors of Ridley Scott's 1979 science-fiction. Many, of course, would choose to interpret the story in a more philosophical manner. Certainly a case can be made to see the story as a parable about man's search for God, or man's essential ignorance of the world, or of the chaos of the universe. While I acknowledge the story's visual and philosophical qualities, it has a personal connection. It evokes what I would call the large-library experience. Borges' nameless librarian, an administrator of some minor sort - if the library is infinite, all administrators are minor - recollects, "Like all men of the library, I have traveled in my youth, I have wandered in search of a book." Reading this, I think of my own rambles through stacks and shelves both as a student and an unattached "scholar." I've wandered through libraries looking for or just at books, feeling their collective weight, reading titles, puzzling at the cipher of numbers and letters by which they are classified. I have been lost in corridors of books like one drifting through the pinched streets of some foreign town, though indeed these rambles have taken part in and around my home. Books as realia have been part of this attraction. Strolling between shelves of bound volumes, I feel I'm pressed between the scales of some vast and dormant beast. Opened, each book presents a small bracket of hard space and distilled experience that, when joined in imagination with other books, create the sensation of time congealed. Books in vast quantities form a reality greater than the sum of their parts. Unlike museums, whether of science or art, that enfold me in a history of eras and schools and "movements," large libraries point beyond their realia. They go from the tangible to the intangible, from the temporal to the timeless, from the momentary to the eternal. Masses of books suggest the infinite. - Garrett Rowlan

/Library of Babel/ {in the process of "being built"} is dedicated to:

My Eternal Lover & Mentor ~
"Jorge Luis Borges"

/Library Ticket/

The movement of atoms is eternal.

Thrown through the void,
either by their own weight
or by the impact of other atoms,
they wander
until chance brings them together.

Some of them manage to cling together;
they form the most solid bodies.

Others,
more mobile,
are separated by a greater distance;
they form the less dense bodies,
air and light.

Some did not wish to be admitted to any group;
they move around gloriously and endlessly in space,
like dust motes lit up by rays of light in a dark room.

[from Lucretius' De Rerum Natura, recited by Rousseau in La vallée close]

~ This seemingly simple poetry reminds us that every work of Art is relative to the Grand Time wherein it was sprout, and is to be judged thus. We won't/ might not hold a good opinion when we read and consider these lines now, after two decades of Stephen Hawking and 'A Brief History of Time'. This poem was written in First Century BC, by the Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius. Now, do we ought to re-think and re-consider our opinion? Epicurean Physics, atomism, the nature of the mind and soul, explanations of sensation and thought, the development of the world and its phenomena, a variety of celestial and terrestrial phenomena, arguments about God, Lucretius' Physics - everything is here, in these simple lines of poetry ~

Concept & Design:
Library.Babel

/Library of Babel/ {in the process of "being built"}