Gombrowicz hunts me from the depths of 1958 with hideous timeliness. I do realise one tends to seek related meanings if things are praying on their mind and if one seeks long and hard enough one will find. But, but…
Our current discourse of “environment”. Not even nature, “environment” – of humans, because it only matters when it surrounds us. We speak of protecting the environment, because it turned out not to be an bottomless, never ending resource. And as this resource runs out it endangers our way of living. Panic! We call to stop damaging environment, but in order to protect us. The actual pain of other life forms is not even considered in nomenclature.
The indifference is a part of preservation instinct – if we were to feel the pain of every fly or grass with full empathy, we’d all end up safely placed in appropriate mental institutions by the age of 22. However – save the Bengal tiger, so that our kids can see it not only on photographs?
Yes, that’s what I think about. Especially when struck down by a killer migraine and completely helpless.
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Comments ( 2 )
I enjoyed this, thanks for posting it. Did you translate it yourself? I’m assuming his books aren’t available in English. Anyway, nice writing at the end as well. Keep up the good work :)
I think he’s books are available in just about any language imaginable.
I’m doing some translating work lately and getting into having people understand foreign text – the way I do ;)
cheers
